


Dawning Lights

by ModernDayBard



Category: Final Fantasy I
Genre: F/M, GBA version, Novelization of the game, ordinary person in fantasy world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-09-25 09:29:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 77,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20374519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModernDayBard/pseuds/ModernDayBard
Summary: Re-Posted from my FF account--not stolen."When the world is veiled in darkness, four Warriors of Light will come." But come from where? And how? Just who are the Warriors of Light, and how did they become the heroes that world needed so desperately?





	1. Small Folk

_“...the small folk drawn into the pattern of fate, the small folk who live among small things.” (TS Elliot, _Murder in the Cathedral_)_

* * *

The yellow behemoth approached its lair slowly, before coming to a halt and disgorging its frenzied load in a noisy, energetic, and _chaotic_ hoard. Wincing at the sound and adjusting the dark brown hair falling just shy of his bespectacled dark brown eyes, Matt Meyers allowed him flow to carry him off of the school bus. He did his best to blend into the crowd, hoping for once his diminutive stature and slight frame would play to his advantage.

No such luck.

Someone jostled him from the side, nearly knocking the sixteen-year-old over, and Matt braced himself, wondering what it would be this morning. “Watch it, ‘genius’,” the offending party snarled. “If you injure the star receiver the week before the big game...”

The threat implied was obvious, but the younger boy couldn’t resist an eye roll. “To be fair, Marcus, if a slight run-in with an admittedly unimpressive featherweight such as myself could take you out of the game, then it would seem our team is in pretty bad shape.” He’d probably pay for the comeback later, but he was hoping that while the three members of the football team that seemed to have it out for him tried to sort out the larger words and more complicated syntax, he’d have time to get away to homeroom.

“At least our team is representing the school. What’s your contribution?”

“To school spirit? I like to think I raise moral by not lowering it with petty bullying tactics. You might give it a try some time.”

They must’ve been in a good mood, or else in a rush, because they actually let him go with a combination push and _conveniently_ extended foot that sent him sprawling and a parting shot: “Guess the genius really doesn’t care about anything.”

Matt scowled as he picked himself up and tried to gather the few items that’d scattered in his fall, ignored, as ever, by the passing stampede of students. _Because it makes perfect sense that they pick on kids not in the popular clique in order to ‘better’ the school somehow. Is it any wonder I want to be out of here as soon as possible? At best the other students are apathetic in everything they undertake, at worst, they’re outright lazy and antagonistic. I can’t wait to graduate._

Sadly, the morning’s events were nothing new to the teen. From early on in elementary school, he’d been singled out as a target for bullies at every school he attended. _Smart student, slow runner, short person—the deadly triple-threat._ Not only that, but Matt had one of those faces that made him seem a good three to four years younger than he actually was—add that to the fact that he had actually skipped a grade and was now a junior, and he supposed it was practically inevitable that the cycle continue. He’d just endure for the year and a half he had left, then escape to college, where he would finally, simply be left _alone_.

* * *

The slight teen turned away from his bag to grab a final erring pen, and with ghost-like quickness, someone stooped and dropped a small packet into the abandoned back-pack: a packet that, among other things, contained a crystal whose heart contained a flickering ember of green.

* * *

Zachary Prehill was not the class clown—he didn’t usually disrupt classes, play pranks, nor did he seem bent on making people laugh, or even on causing chaos. Nor was he a hopeless student or athlete—actually, if there was anything his teachers and coach could agree on, it was that the tall, lanky, strawberry-blond boy actually had quite a bit of potential both in the classroom and on the football field, if he could only be bothered to try.

Unfortunately, he rarely _could_ as he drifted his way through high school, dabbling in various extracurriculars, turning in schoolwork only slightly better than average despite an obviously high intelligence, and, while admittedly not slacking off on the field, most of the team could tell you that he only gave a much effort as he was pushed to at a given moment.

Even his social life was ‘average’—he existed on the fringes of the popular group, not one of the rulers of the school, but nowhere near being a bottom feeder, either. He was a little more secure in his place on the team, having been the best friend/lackey of the new team captain since they were ten, but even there, he just went with the general flow of opinion, exerting as little effort as possible to maintain the status quo.

When he arrived in homeroom that morning, he was greeted by a glaring Matt Meyers. Normally not an intimidating person, the younger junior still managed to make a single glower feeling like an hour-long critique. “I am not in a good mood, Prehill,” the shorter boy spat. “I’ve had a rough morning, and the only thing that could make it worse is if you don’t have your part of the assignment finished.”

“Relax ‘genius’” Zach responded, using the taunting nickname the whole football team used for the dark-haired young man. Seriously, that kid would wreck any class’s GPA that was graded on a curve, knew it full well, and acted like it, too—and he wondered why he didn’t have any friends? “The project’s not due ‘till next Monday: you’ll have my notes by Friday. Plenty of time for you to edit them twenty times, make them utterly unrecognizable as any piece of work I ever turned in, grumble for an hour about how much you hate group projects—especially with assigned partners—and write a ten-page thesis on how you could’ve done it so much better if you’d worked on your own, and got it done a month ago, besides.”

Matt’s glare didn’t soften any. “I told you I wanted those notes _today_ and you said you’d have them!”

“No, I _said_, and I quote: ‘Don’t worry about it, I’ll have them to you in plenty of time for you to integrate them with your part of the presentation and put the finishing touches on the project.’ You going to tell me you _can’t_ get it done in a single weekend?”

“That’s not the point!” Matt hissed, his glare becoming even more condescending (if that was possible). “If you actually put in a modicum of effort into your work, I wouldn’t _have_ to edit so much—I don’t understand how that _crap_ I’ve seen you turn in lets you keep that B-average that you somehow maintain! Do you BS all of them the night before?”

Zach gave a quiet chuckle, noticing the teacher was about to enter, and threw himself into his chair as he smirked back at his disgusted rival, “No—some of them I do on the bus!”

* * *

As tall as he was, Zach was a hard figure to miss, even as he joined the throngs of students transitioning from first to second period, so the mysterious figure from before had no problem tailing him. And thanks to the sheer number of students, it didn’t have any trouble getting close enough to slip the second packet into his backpack—the crystal of this one flickering with a dying red light.

* * *

Lunch period found Leslie Meyers (Yes, she was Matt’s twin sister; no, she was not as smart as her brother) slipping unseen into the cafeteria yet again. Like her brother, Leslie was short and generally unimpressive looking, her dark brown hair usually pulled back into a low ponytail, her hazel eyes never still as she scanned the loud room, the world she’d never felt truly a part of.

After getting her tray of food, she sat at the end of one of the tables, ignored by the talkative group of girls sitting on the other end. Once more she scanned the cafeteria, the sophomore wishing she had the courage to go up and introduce herself to one of the groups, ask if she could sit with them—maybe make a friend for once—but knowing full well she likely never would. No, she’d likely graduate in the same level of obscurity that she entered the school with, her own brother the only person who had a clue that she even went to this school.

It wasn’t that she was anti-social; she genuinely _liked_ people—she just didn’t feel comfortable approaching them, thus her tendency to fade in the background as she wore plain clothes and never spoke up unless called upon by a teacher (which didn’t happen often—they seemed to forget about her, as well).

Giving up on her observations, Leslie ducked her head and pretended to be completely absorbed by the food on her tray as she slowly ate.

* * *

The girl was so engrossed in her food that she didn’t look up when someone brushed by her table—nor did she notice when they dropped a packet in her bag as they passed: a packet with a crystal in it, the faintest blue light emanating from its center.

* * *

The school day itself may have been over, but for all members of the football team, the day wasn’t over until coach sent you home—the real work had just begun. After all, the big game against their rival school was now under a week away, with a spot in the playoffs on the line (as if the pressure wasn’t high enough), so if they thought they were being driven hard before, they were being pushed to their limits now. The grueling progress tested their limits, threatening to push them beyond their physical and mental abilities, but finally, was over.

“Wilson!” Coach Roberts called out to the young man who played center. The players had just been released to go home, and the tall, stocky blond boy stopped immediately and jogged back to his coach.

“Sir?” Josh Wilson asked as he stopped in front of the man who called, knowing without looking that Zach was lingering nearby—just out of earshot, waiting for his ride home.

Coach Roberts shook his head. “Wilson, you’re doing your job on field well—better than most I’ve coached. But I made you captain over Miller for a reason, and you haven’t stepped up to the challenge. You’re their leader, Wilson, so step up and _lead_!”

Josh watched his coach walk away before turning and resuming his path to the parking lot, his best friend Zach falling into step beside him as expected. “What’d Coach want?”

The other athlete shrugged. “Wants me to actually earn my place as captain, I guess.”

He knew his reluctance must’ve been clear, which was confirmed by his fellow junior’s response. “I swear, man, you’ve got to be the one guy on this team who doesn’t want to be captain, and Coach Roberts picked _you_ of all people? What was he thinking?”

“I have no idea,” Josh answered honestly as the two boys got into his car, shuddering internally at the thought of being responsible for the team. “I have no idea.”

* * *

What neither boy had noticed was that someone had paused by Josh’s bag—left unattended in those few moments the coach had spoken with him, when Zach had been just too far away to see—just long enough to leave behind the fourth and final small packet: this one’s crystal barely gleaming yellow.

* * *

It was a very confused Matt who pulled the packet from his bag, but confusion quickly gave way to skepticism and suspicion. _Is this someone’s idea of a prank?_ He read the note carefully as he glared at the crystal shard now lying in his palm.

_Darkness threatens all;  
_ _Your destiny awaits.  
_ _Loyalty will shine its light,  
_ _And open homeward gates._

Below that was simply written: _Four Light’s Pond, on the shore tonight—9 PM. _ After that there was only an odd little picture in the place of a signature: an odd, cone-shaped hat the same shade of green as the crystal.

H was about to wad it up and throw it away, when a timid knock on his door stopped him. “Uh, Matt?” his sister’s voice sounded strange—more frightened than usual. “I-I found something odd in my bag.”

Matt got up from his desk, opening his door, trying to soften his expression from its customary displeased glower. “Me, too.”

She showed him her crystal—identical to his in everything save color—and the note that’d come with it. The poem was nearly the same as his, except that, instead of ‘loyalty’, the word in its place was ‘courage’, and the picture was a blue hammer, not a green hat.

He’d been all set to ignore it as someone’s cruel idea of a prank, but someone brought his _baby sister_ into it—that was crossing a line. (Okay, never mind the fact that Leslie was actually a half-hour older: he was a grade ahead, and _nobody_ messed with Leslie.) “Let’s go and chew out whoever thinks this is funny.”

Leslie frowned, shuffling her feet. “Wouldn’t that be doing just what they want? I don’t want the whole school to suddenly know who I am because I’m the girl who fell for the senior prank.”

“That’s why you’ll stay back, behind me, and let me do the talking.”

She still wasn’t convinced but Matt wasn’t going to let this pass by without a fight.

* * *

Josh and Zach were upstairs in Zach’s room, procrastinating starting in on their homework. Zach especially, seemed even more reluctant than usual. “I gotta get started on the group project or Matt Meyers is gonna kill me. Man, why did I get assigned to work with the nerd that hates all things human?”

“Maybe because you’re the one person who can keep up with him? You know I’d be a C-student if it weren’t for your help.”

Zach shrugged, still not pleased. “I think this was assigned partners because Miss Watters knew no one would volunteer to work with Matt. He makes a cactus look cuddly!”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t antagonize the guy,” Josh retorted, reaching into his bag with a sigh of defeat, then frowning as he encountered the strange packet. Pulling out the crystal and scrap of paper, he frowned at the yellow shard as he read the note aloud.

_“Darkness threatens all;  
_ _Your destiny awaits.  
_ _Leadership will shine its light,  
_ _And open homeward gates._

_Four Light’s Pond, on the shore tonight—9 PM.” _Josh frowned at the paper. “Then there’s a yellow... is that a sword? What the heck?”

Zach shook his head, laughing. “That’s either the captain of the Durnby Goon Squad’s idea of a pre-game prank, or someone on the cheer squad’s idea of asking you out.” He watched his friend put the note away, laughing a bit at the blond boy’s frustration, only to find that a similar packet had been placed in his bag, with a red crystal, and a poem referencing ‘Fortitude’, signed with the picture of a red cap and feather.

“Durnby,” the two football players chorused in unison.

“Well,” Josh said, standing up. “Shall we go let them know what we think of their handiwork?”

“Wouldn’t that be doing just what they want?”

“Maybe,” Josh admitted. “But we’ve got the notes as proof they’re trying to start something. And if the papers get wind of a dirty trick, then it just makes our team look better.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Zach decided, standing as well. “Let’s go.”

* * *

When the two groups met, glaring at each other from a distance of five yards or so, it was 8:57. Matt was the first to break the tense silence.

“I guess I should’ve expected _you_ to have a hand in something this juvenile, Prehill. So let me guess—you’ve got the rest of the team hiding, waiting to jump up and ambush us with slime and cameras or something? Grow up already!”

“What the hell are you talking about, Meyers?” Josh demanded. “And why did you call us here? Don’t you know we’re busy people?”

“Oh, yes,” Matt sneered, worked up by what he thought Josh had meant. “Because only the football team and that stupid rivalry game matter at our sorry excuse for a school—never mind those of us trying to get into a decent college and _prepare for the future_. You know, I can put up with another year or so of your team’s stupid shenanigans and taunts. But who the hell decided it was okay to bring my sister into this—huh?”

“Your sister?” Zach blinked, just now noticing the second figure who appeared to be practically hiding behind the furious teen. “You have a sister?”

Before either of the Meyers siblings could retort, Josh put up a hand. “Look, there’s been some kind of misunderstanding. This isn’t a prank—at least, not from us. I just want to finish my homework, maintain my grades, and stay on the team. Then Zach and I found these.” He held out the crystal and the note, and, still grumbling, Zach followed his lead.

Matt’s furious expression didn’t change, but at least he stopped yelling as he and his sister both displayed their strange gifts as well. “Well, if it wasn’t you, and it wasn’t us, then—”

But he never finished the question, as the cellphone in his pocket buzzed (he’d set an alarm for 9:00, to let him know that at that point he should be running from whatever prank would be tripped), all four crystals flashed once—so bright they had to shut their eyes—everything went white, and the world seemed to turn inside out.

* * *

“Dude—_what_ are you _wearing_?”

Josh blinked in the sunlight, sitting up and looking around to find himself in a strange forest in an unfamiliar place, with Zach staring at him incredulously, continuing his rant. “Josh—is that _armor?_” The taller boy didn’t answer at first, though he did glance down to see that his friend’s observation was correct: he was in armor...of a sort. Truth be told, Josh could tell the hardened leather wasn’t that sturdy—less protective than his football gear, to be sure—but he wasn’t really that concerned about that.

“Seriously, Zach? That’s your first question? Not: ‘where the hell are we’? Or better yet: ‘what just happened’?” Then Josh _really_ looked at his friend. “And I could say the same to you, anyway—cap and cape? Really?”

Zach looked down at his own outfit—all in silver and red—as if noticing it for the first time. He was clearly startled, but tried to play it off. “Hey, at least _mine_ is stylish!”

Their bickering was interrupted by two voices moaning, and the boys whirled to see two other unconscious figures wake up and slowly sit up, also looking around in confusion. One wore a loose, blue robe and had a conical yellow hat pulled so low that the face was completely in shadow—although their eyes glowed yellow—and the other’s face was all that could be seen of her, her loose, hooded white robe completely obscuring everything else. It’d been dark by the pond, but Josh thought the girl in white looked enough like Matt Meyers to probably be his sister, meaning the figure in blue...

“Meyers?” Zach burst out, his tone highly amused as he evidently had come to the same conclusion. “Hey, it looks good on you, man—a definite improvement!”

The yellow eyes narrowed, confirming his identity, and the voice that issued from the black void echoed slightly, but had lost none of its annoyed condescension. “Well, I can’t say the same for you, but it’s not your fault—premature grey hair is a difficult look to pull off.”

_That_ silenced Zach (who was frantically looking around for a reflective surface to confirm or deny Matt’s taunt) long enough for Josh to step in. “Hey, are you two alright? Do you have any idea what happened? Or where we are?”

“N-no,” the girl stammered, speaking for the first time and moving closer to her brother. In the daylight now (that was still throwing Josh off—had they been unconscious all night? Had someone moved them? Was this a Durnby prank after all?), he could see that she was even shorter than her brother, and he kept wracking his brain, trying to remember her from school.

He noticed Matt put a protective arm around his sister’s shoulders, even as the younger boy glared at their surroundings, as if daring them to do any further damage. “Wherever we are, it wasn’t any Durnby players that brought us here.”

“What makes you say that?” Josh asked, surprised that Matt seemed to have read his mind.

“For one thing, if it were our oh-so-enthusiastic rival school, they’d have made sure you know it, _and_ they wouldn’t have targeted Leslie and me.” Matt shook his head, and suddenly, his tone wasn’t as self-assured as it normally sounded. “For another...As absolutely, certifiably _insane_ as this sounds...that blast was magic, a teleportation spell.”

It was a credit to their insane situation that the next words out of Josh’s mouth were “How do you know?” and not ‘yeah, right, buddy.’

Matt shrugged helplessly. “I-I’m not sure. I just know. It’s like...” he trailed off, and to everyone’s surprise, it was Zach who finished the thought.

“It’s like the magic left an aftertaste in the air. I can feel it, too.”

Leslie nodded in confirmation, and all three turned to Josh, who stared blankly at them. “Maybe I’m the odd one out, but I don’t feel or taste or smell anything.” Then he looked down, noticed the crystals they all were clutching and the (sadly empty) travel sacks each had, and sighed. “Wherever we are, and however we got here, I have the feeling it’s got something to do with these ridiculous crystals. Wanna bet they’re our ticket home, too?”

“I got no idea, man,” Zach replied, standing up, looking around and stretching. “Why don’t we go to that castle over there and ask?”

* * *

_The world is veiled in darkness. The wind stops, the sea is wild, and the earth begins to rot. The people wait, their only hope, a prophecy: _

_“When the world is in darkness Four Warriors of Light will come....” _

_After a long journey, four young warriors arrived. In the hand of each was a crystal._


	2. Not in Kansas

_“Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore.” (Dorothy, _Wizard of Oz_)_

* * *

_“I got no idea, man,” Zach replied, standing up, looking around, and stretching. “Why don’t we go to that castle over there and ask?”_

“What castle?” Matt asked as the other three scrambled to their feet.

Zach shook his head, pointing to where one could see the tops of various towers above the trees. “How many other castles—or signs of civilization in general—do you see, Meyers?”

Matt decided not to dignify the question with a response, and turned instead to his sister, who he found crouched over a small pile of objects just to the side of where they woke up. “Leslie? What is it?”

“Three knives, a staff, and a pile of leather cord,” she reported, picking up the cord and examining it, staring at the crystal shard in her hand.

Zach began tapping his foot impatiently. “Come _on!_ The sooner we go—the sooner we get back!” Instead of having the intended effect, his words seemed to spur Matt to crouch next to his sister, the two conversing in low tones. Zach sighed and turned to his best friend. “Come on, Josh, let’s get out of here.”

“And leave them behind?” Josh’s tone conveyed utter disbelief. “Dude, we have no idea where we are, and they aren’t exactly imposing. If something dangerous happens, they’re dead meat. Do you really want that on your conscience?”

Zach really wanted to say he didn’t mind—honestly, Matt rubbed him the wrong way, the arrogant little bastard—but then there was the girl to think about...she’d spoken maybe twice since they woke up, and if she was looking to _Matt_ to protect her... Well, maybe Josh had a point. “Fine,” he growled, “but if he keeps insulting me, I’m leaving.”

The two football players wandered back over to the siblings, watching as the girl (Leslie, wasn’t it?) held up her crystal—now suspended from one of the leather cords, held in a harness-like series of knots—for her brother to inspect, before tying it around her neck. Wordlessly, Matt passed her his, and in a few moments, it was likewise suspended around his neck.

“You’re really going to wear it like a necklace?” Zach asked.

Matt rolled his eyes—at least, the glowing yellow orbs moved in such a fashion as to suggest that they were being rolled—and responded in his ever-condescending tone: “Well, if they _are_ our key home, it’s better than losing them.”

“He’s got a point, Josh conceded, before turning to the white-robed girl. “Could you do that for ours...Leslie, right?”

She nodded silently in answer to both questions, and soon, all four crystal shards were secured. She then reached down and handed each boy a knife, taking the staff for herself with a good deal of reluctance. They all regarded her strangely, forcing her to explain. “Look at what we’re wearing—or the design of the castle. We’ve either gone back in time or into a different world and era. Either way could be dangerous, and either way people’d probably expect travelers to be armed in some way.”

“Eh, you got a point there,” Zach admitted, taking the proffered blade. “I just wish it was more impressive—you know?”

With that established, the group _finally_ set off walking towards the distant towers, unaware they were watched by unseen eyes.

* * *

The eyes didn’t remain unseen for long, unfortunately, as four short, vaguely humanoid figures bearing sickle-shaped swords leaped from the underbrush to confront the teens. They charged the group with no warning challenge or time for diplomacy, forcing the four to fight for their lives on the shortest notice possible.

One leapt at Leslie, and she shrieked in terror, spinning her staff in an attempt to push it away, unintentionally catching it in the throat and fatally damaging its windpipe. The creature fell to the ground, and the girl did as well, staring in shock at the creature she’d killed. “I-I didn’t mean to...” she whispered, horror-struck.

Zach side-stepped his attacker’s lunge like it was a tackle, then instinctively thrust his knife into the creature’s back as it stumbled past, shuddering a little at the blood that splattered his wrist. “That looked so much cooler in the movies,” he muttered, glaring at the corpse.

In his attempt to back away from his attacker, Matt stumbled into Zach, falling hard on his back. Zach jumped away with a startled cry of “Watch it!” and Matt desperately stabbed upwards at the charging figure. He got a lucky shot at the ankle, but it wasn’t anything like a fatal blow.

Josh, for his part, had actually managed to dispatch the one that’d attacked him before it landed a hit, but the one that Matt had injured got in a lucky slash across the stocky boy’s back as it stumbled forward on its injured foot. Josh grunted in pain, swinging his knife behind him in a clumsy blow that nevertheless did its work—finishing off the final creature.

Panting hard, he looked around for the others, only to see Zach yelling at Matt—on his behalf. “You could have gotten him killed, ‘genius’. Next time, watch where you’re going!”

“It’s alright,” Josh assured his friend. Truth be told, it only stung a little—apparently the armor was a little sturdier than he gave it credit for. Though the sword had gone through, it’d only managed to scratch him after penetrating the tough leather. No, he was more concerned for Leslie, who hadn’t seemed to have moved from where she sat in the road, looking at the limp corpse of her attacker as if actually willing it to stand up. Uncertain, he crouched next to her and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. She flinched at the contact and when she turned, he could see that she’d been crying.

“I didn’t mean to,” she whimpered.

Josh had no idea what he was doing, but he knew that they couldn’t fall to pieces not ten minutes after waking up in a strange world—something told him that they’d need even Leslie if they were going to make it home—and that meant he had to keep her from going completely into shock. “I know,” he said at last, trying to shift so that she couldn’t see the corpse past him. “You were just trying to protect yourself, your brother...all of us. It’s okay, Leslie.”

Her hazel eyes met his, and the trust he saw there terrified him a little, but at least the panic was fading, for now. He stood, offering her his hand, and helped her to her feet before turning back to the other two, who’d stopped their bickering once they’d realized what state Leslie was in, standing still in awkward embarrassment. Matt crossed to his sister, and Josh stepped back, allowing the younger boy to ascertain for himself that Leslie was uninjured.

“Some team we are,” he muttered as he stood next to Zach. Before his friend could reply, they were interrupted by more crashing in the bushes to the side of the rough path they’d been following. All four whirled, weapons at the ready, only to find themselves facing four disappointed-looking humans.

The boy in the lead, a little older than Josh, was dressed similarly to the blond young man in similar armour, flanked by another boy in plain trousers, an open vest and a headband, and followed by two robed figures nearly identical to the Meyers siblings—although, as best as Josh could tell, the figure in the white robe was actually a boy (it was frighteningly hard to tell in that loose robe, with only the face visible.) Their weapons were slightly better, but fortunately, not focused on the four teens as they took in the fallen corpses.

The boy in the vest was the first to speak. “Mars above! Of course we were too late. This is your fault, Luke.”

The boy in armor, who apparently was Luke, held up a hand to silence his friend, before turning to Josh. “I apologize for my companion’s rudeness, but his enthusiasm for the hunt at least translates to admirable skill in battle. Nevertheless, thank you for putting pay to the scum—that’s at least four goblins that won’t threaten Cornelia again.”

“N-No problem,” Josh stammered out, unsure of what to do with the sudden turn of events. Fortunately, Zach, ever the expert at improv, stepped up to the challenge.

“But of course—what else were we to do when set upon? Admittedly, we ourselves are no hunters...”

The boy in white looked up at that, from where he’d been examining one of the goblins. “Not hunters? Luke—you mean we chased those monsters straight into a party of travelers? We could have gotten them killed!”

Even the boy in the vest looked shaken at Zach’s revelation. “Oh Styx,” he muttered, “I am so sorry.”

The figure in blue spoke at last, the slightly echoing vice revealing that the person that they could see nothing of was, in fact, female. “Of course we meant no harm, but one must admit that untrained travelers traipsing through this wood are just asking to be set upon, hunting party or no hunting party. Goblins hate all things human, and prefer to attack the helpless. _And_ this is their territory.”

Josh tried not to look surprised by this, and was grateful that Zach was still doing the talking, a fact that seemed to surprise the four newcomers. “We were unaware of that fact, being strangers in this place.”

“Where do you hail from, then?” Luke asked, showing genuine curiosity.

“The northeast,” Zach answered without skipping a beat. “Just a small fishing village on the coast, highly isolated. Unfortunately, we four are the only survivors of an attack and have been seeking safer harbors.”

Josh shot his friend a surprised glare—what was up with that story? What happened to trying to get answers?—but the boy in the vest and his friends only gave sympathetic, understanding nods. “Pirates?” he asked, clenching a fist. At Zach’s nod, he growled. “Bikke and his scum have been sailing all around the coast wiping out villages and plundering what they can. I hear they’ve set up harbor in Pravoka, on the continent north of here.”

“Ryhan!” Luke cut in, glaring at the boy in the vest. “We do them wrong to stand here idly chatting and wasting time if they are to arrive in Cornelia before dark. Sibyl, Marcus—will you come?”

“Just a minute, Luke,” the boy in white, Marcus, answered. He turned to Leslie with a sympathetic, understanding expression. “Your first kill?” At her silent nod, he said, “It always hard for a white mage to take a life, but never forget that you do it only out of necessity, to protect your companions. This makes you a guardian, not a monster.” With that, he turned away and focused on Josh. “You’re injured,” he observed, then turned back to Leslie. “Do you know any healing spells? Or you?” the second question was aimed at Zach, and both shook their heads.

Rather than be surprised, Marcus seemed to take their negative answer in stride. “Your teachers must have focused on theory before practice. And of course, you were not able to complete your training. Here, allow me.” Before Josh could stop something, the boy muttered something under his breath, stretching out his hand, and the scratch on his back vanished with an odd, itching feeling. “I recommend purchasing a few basic scrolls in Cornelia if you plan to continue these dangerous roads. The heads of these monsters should bring you enough gil for them, and for some better equipment besides.”

“Monster hunting earns _money_?” Josh asked before he could stop himself. The four gave him a look that plainly said: _what kind of back-woods idiot is this?_

“But of course,” the girl in blue answered. “How else could any city find enough people stupid enough to try and make a dent in the monster populations? Of course, trying to keep _your_ party in good armor and magic will be expensive—you don’t see too many parties with three mages, let alone a red mage. That’s going to run you quite a bit of gil in the long run.”

“Sibyl,” Marcus interjected, “They’re not hunters, just travelers. It might be best for them just to stay in Cornelia.”

“I agree,” Josh said, the thought suddenly occurring to them that taking the monster heads would be akin to stealing income from four people who’d done nothing but help them. “And please, these were your, uh, quarry, you must—”

“No!” Ryhan insisted, actually taking a step back. “You are the ones that killed them, and we can always find more. Besides, from the looks of your equipment, you need the upgrades more than we do.”

Before Josh could protest any more, Luke spoke again. “He is right. These are yours, and the rewards should be as well. Who knows? Perhaps you will find hunting a successful way to finance your travels, if you choose to venture beyond Cornelia. But however far you go, and whatever path you choose, we wish you safe travels and certain paths in these dark and dangerous times.”

Without another word, the four strangers ran back into the forest, and Josh could hear them debating about how to track down another pack of goblins for a good five minutes after they left.

* * *

The rest of the day passed quietly, without another attack (for which Matt knew they were all grateful—not only were they not looking forward to another fight, but the heads they’d reluctantly severed and placed in their traveling bas were beginning to stink), and midafternoon found them standing just outside the walls of the city of Cornelia. Before they went in, Zach held up a hand to stop them.

“Look,” he began, “I spun the story I did because I think it might not be best to advertise we’re strangers from another world _until_ we find someone who can actually help us. Let’s just stick with the story for now, say that we’ve decided to go into monster hunting and... I don’t know, that we plan to head to Pravoka and take on this Bikke guy in revenge. If anyone gives you information about how this place works and asks a question, just go with it—don’t upset the status quo. While we’re in the magic shops, that would be a good time to make some causal inquiries about teleportation spells. Hopefully, they’ll teach us something that gets us home. Above all, act like we know what we’re doing, but don’t try to pass us off as experts. Middle of the road is the safest place to be.”

Matt glared at his rival in red as the four of them made their way into the city proper. “That explains so much about your philosophy,” he growled under his breath, but only Leslie had been able to make out what he was saying.

* * *

Leslie had been worried about how they would find the place they needed to deliver their grisly burdens, but as it turned out, she needn’t have worried: the first person they encountered took one look at the group and asked, “Monster hunters?”

“We are now,” Zach replied, with the same confidence he’d displayed earlier—confidence she envied so much.

The man nodded, then pointed to a stone building near the base of the city’s walls, just inside the gates. “That’d be where ye take yer spoils and claim yer gil. Out of curiosity, where d’ye hail from? Begin’ yer pardon of course, but Cornelia is a place more people come from rather than go to, if you catch my drift. Good place to get yer feet wet, though.”

“That’s what we’re banking on, my good sir,” Zach replied, never faltering a moment. “Our village is—was—a few days travel north-east of here. Highly isolated, few monsters. It was our first battle on the way here that convinced us to go into hunting.”

“Well, if yer bound anywhere far, it’s a good way to get money for supplies.”

And so it turned out to be. After leaving the building and looking at the five hundred gil in their hand, the group stood to the side, debating in low tones.

“Dude, most of that is pity money!” Zach complained.

Matt shook his head. “Apparently every party gets a bonus on their first kill. From now on, we get the same rewards as everybody else. Anyway, it won’t matter, because we’re going to talk with the mages and get _home_. We’re not here for the long-term.”

“Maybe longer than we think,” Josh muttered, glancing back at the building. “You remember what they said when I asked about the quality of mages here? They apparently have just two and they’re only authorized to teach travelers the basic spells—low-level damage spells, healing, and such. Do you really think that teleportation, or whatever it was, was _basic_?”

They all had to admit that he had a point there. “Figures,” Zach grumbled. “So we’re essentially in a whole village of ‘hicks from the sticks’?”

That earned a glare from both Leslie and Matt, though neither felt like explaining why. Instead, Leslie’s brother focused on _important_ matters. “Apparently, so. From what we’ve heard, other cities might have better mages. As much as this pains me to say, we may have to stick with Zach’s pretense about going to Pravoka to fight pirates.”

“Nice to have your support, Meyers,” Zach smirked, which Leslie knew would not improve Matt’s mood any—not that much seemed to, these days.

“Okay, so...what do we do now?” Leslie asked in the following silence.

“What any monster hunter would,” Josh summed up, glancing at the other two to see them nodding, “Buy better equipment, get some spells and other supplies, then head out for the next town. And like Zach said, let’s try to keep a low profile.”

* * *

In the end, that was easier said than done.

They managed not to draw to much attention on their way to the weapons shop, at least, and Leslie found herself truly enjoying the cheerful, simple atmosphere of the small village—knowing all too well they wouldn’t be there long. The proprietor of the weapons shop was an older man, but it took only one look to know that he was still strong enough to wield any of his own equipment. Leslie reminded of her grandfather in his better days—just a few years before, or perhaps some of her oldest uncles—but didn’t have much time to ponder the comparison.

“Let me guess,” he asked, sizing the four of them up. “Local youths turned monster hunters?”

Like everyone else they’d met so far, he aimed his inquiry at Josh, and seemed surprised when Zach stepped up as group spokesman. “Actually, we’re travelers from a sea-village ravaged by Bikke’s pirates, and we decided we’ve had it with being helpless. If monster hunting gives us the skills and equipment we need to go to Pravoka and put paid to that scum, then monster hunters we’ll be.”

For at least the eighteenth time that day, the others were surprised how fast Zach seemed to have picked up the local speech pattern, and Leslie knew even her brother was glad that the taller boy was taking point when it came to talking to anyone. His speech however, instead of placating the proprietor, actually brought the older man out from behind his counter as he paced around the group, sizing them up.

“So you want me outfitting you for a _suicide_ mission? From the looks of what you’ve got, you were lucky to make it this far alive. Have you even trained with those little frog-stickers?”

“This was all we managed to dig out of the rubble—we’d been out of the village on the day of the attack, and when we returned everything was destroyed.”

The old man frowned sympathetically, and Leslie felt awful for the deception. “I guess I can’t talk you out of it, however much I’d like to knock some sense into your thick skulls, but at the very least I can give you a better shot. Will you at least stay in the area a few days and get used to fighting—and fighting as a group? Ah, what am I saying? Of course you will—with a party like what you’ve got shaping up, you’ve got little choice.”

“What do you mean by that?” Josh asked, having heard something similar from the man who’d taken the goblin heads from them.

The shop owner raised an eyebrow at that. “My young warrior, I don’t know how things worked in your village, but you’ve got a white, black, _and_ red mage backing you. Now, keeping _your_ equipment up to par is going to be expensive enough, and your skinny friend’s weapons and armor are gonna run you almost as much,” he began with a nod to Zach. “_Then_ there’s the pretty gil that it costs to keep a mage well-stocked with scrolls—which you’ll have to multiply by three. Even with the first-kill bonus factored in, your probably don’t have quite enough money in your purse to get all you need on this first shopping trip.”

He must’ve seen the dismayed looks the four of them exchanged, because he sighed, then tried for a wan smile. “Never you fret, lads—lass. As expensive as it is, it’s strong balance you’ve got going. You’re the power house of course, lad,” he told Josh. “A warrior’s stronger than anyone, except maybe a monk, and you can take hits better than anyone once you get some decent armor. And a red mage is as good with a sword as any thief with decent enough magic to cover for whatever these two can’t handle, which won’t be much. As a black mage, you’re intelligence is your greatest asset, allowing you to master some of the most powerful elemental spells and others, while the heart of a white mage allows you, little lass, to learn the spells to heal nearly any injury, poison, or disease—and even get some holy magic on your side that’ll cut swaths through any undead monsters you face.”

“What sort of equipment would you recommend then, my good sir?” Zach asked, apparently deciding to capitalize on whatever expertise was being offered them.

“Don’t you ‘sir’ me young man—I’m just Old Undar. And for the two of you, I’d recommend a rapier a piece. Normally I’d say go for a heavier weapon, but we don’t make anything stronger, unfortunately. Definitely upgrade these first chance you get. I can’t believe someone in this town thought it’d be a good idea to have ‘light and fast’ warriors, but what do I know? I’m not the blacksmith; I’ve only been a monster hunter myself for over three decades.” He shook his head as if to force himself back ono topic before turning his attention to the twins, nodding at Leslie while gesturing to Matt. “Now, Missy, that’s a decent staff you’ve got there, but it’ll fit your—”

“Brother,” Matt cut in before Undar could say ‘friend’ or whatever he’d been planning to say.

“—fit your brother better. I’ve got a hammer that I recommend to any white mages that come through. A staff requires higher accuracy, which most black mages have, but the hammer requires more strength, and that’s a field the white mages do better in. It all comes down to balance and playing to your advantages.”

“Strategy,” Matt supplied, his eyes glowing—well, glowing brighter—with anticipation.

Undar nodded. “Exactly, lad. Now I don’t do this often, but there’s something about you four...well, you’ll learn as hunters to trust your instincts...I’ll tell you what. I’ll lend you the rest of the gil you need to get your equipment and magic, and once you’ve earned back the money on your next hunt, you can pay me back. Does that sound fair?”

Leslie didn’t know Zach well, but even she knew enough to be worried at the excitement in his voice as he replied, “Beyond fair, Undar. You have our word as hunters.”

* * *

As Undar had predicted, their first-kill bonus only covered the weapons, armor, and two spells a piece for the mages. Undar lent the funds needed for one more spell a piece, and Leslie couldn’t suppress the sinking feeling that Zach was planning to take advantage of the old man’s generosity. She couldn’t stand the thought, but she didn’t exactly want to confront someone she barely knew, either.

In the rush of getting their armor on and learning the spells, the crystals, previously hidden under robe/shirt collars, somehow slipped out, visible for all to see, and with them, went any pretense of keeping a low profile.

“The crystals!”

“The Warriors of light!”

“Lukahn was right!”

“Please, help us!”

“Save the Princess!”

The four teens found themselves backed against the fountain in the middle of the town, wishing fervently that Undar had come with them instead of giving them a list of the best supplies to get once they left his shop. Josh breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the city guard forcing the crowd apart, but relief vanished at the eager expression on the soldiers faces when they at last stood before the teens.

“Those crystals!” the one who seemed to be in charge gasped out. “You must come see the king at once!”

“Wait—what—” Before any of them could fully protest, they found themselves completely surrounded by armed soldiers marching them up the streets and straight into the caste.

_This is going to end so well._

* * *

The face of the king was the face of a kind man—reminded Josh a lot of his own father, really—but it was full of grief and fragile hope that immediately made all four uncomfortable. The chancellor standing to one side of the throne, by contrast, looked like a man who’d just been force-fed a lemon.

“I am told you all carry crystals. Is this true?”

They all exchanged an uncertain glance, but one doesn’t exactly lie to a king...at least, Josh was pretty sure that was a bad idea. Besides, they _could_ be about to get some straight answers. As one, they all four slipped the crystal pendants from around their necks and held them out.

The king’s gaze locked onto them like a man clinging to a last, desperate promise, and a broken, confusing stream of words came at last. “Then it is true—Lukahn’s prophecy—is it possible—”

“Sire,” the chancellor broke in at last. “We cannot be sure that these are, indeed, the Warriors of Light from the prophecy.”

Josh really wanted ask ‘what prophecy?’ but he figured that’d probably be a bad idea, so he held his tongue.

“Yet they stand before us with the crystals!” the king insisted, his voice gaining strength. “I cannot dismiss this as mere coincidence. Warriors,” he added, turning back to the four teens. “There is a favor I must ask of you. My daughter, Sara, has been abducted by Garland and taken to the shrine just north of here. Would you rescue my child?” The king’s voice broke on ‘child’ but he did manage to keep from crying.

The chancellor turned to them as well, sour expression fading to one of sorrow and concern as well. “Garland was once a knight of the realm, before he betrayed us. He was the best swordsman in the land—we have none that can match him. But perhaps the legendary warriors...”

Now they were _really_ in trouble. Mistaking their uncertainty for hesitancy, the king spoke again. “I have heard that you wish to travel to the continent north of us, to Pravoka.”

_Man, word travels fast,_ Josh thought, but didn’t say.

“Unfortunately, we have no ships, and the bridge to the north has fallen into disrepair, making passage impossible. But Warriors of Light, if you will bring my daughter back home, I will have the bridge rebuilt as a sign of my gratitude.” He paused, and both men faced them, with hope and hunger in their eyes.

They had no idea where they were, what they were doing, what prophecy everyone kept talking about, or even what they were getting themselves into. They weren’t from this world, and had barely survived their first encounter with goblins, which were apparently the easiest of monsters to kill. There was almost certainly a giant misunderstanding behind everything, starting with the crystals that they didn’t know what to make of. Really, when considering all that, there was only one answer they could give...

“Of course we will,” Josh replied, bowing as he spoke.


	3. Show of the Century

_“...step right up to the shipwrecked showboat _Sir Walter Scott_ for the show of the century!” (Duke of Bridgewater, _Big River_)_

* * *

_They had no idea where they were, what they were doing, what prophecy everyone kept talking about, or even what they were getting themselves into. They weren’t from this world, and had barely survived their first encounter with goblins, which were apparently the easiest of monsters to kill. There was almost certainly a giant misunderstanding behind everything, starting with the crystals that they didn’t know what to make of. Really, when considering all that, there was only one answer they could give..._

_“Of course we will,” Josh replied, bowing as he spoke._

It was to Zach’s credit, he decided, that he held back his protests until the four ‘heroes’ were alone in their room in the inn discussing what, if anything, they planned to so the next day about the ‘princess problem’. “Are you out of your _mind_!” he all but shrieked once the guards had left them alone. “I know I said to play along, but don’t you think you’re taking that a bit too far? What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that saying no was the smart thing to do!” Josh retorted without fully considering his words.

Zach stared at his friend; his confusion mirrored in the expressions—or eyes—of the Meyers siblings. “So...why didn’t you?”

“I—I’m not really sure...” Josh admitted, clearly uncomfortable. “I guess I was afraid of what he king would say if we turned him down—there was obviously no way to convince him we weren’t the people he thought we were.”

“I’ll grant you that,” Matt said, speaking for the first time in what felt like hours. “Maybe it would be best to slip away and get out of town under the pretense of rescuing the princess?”

Josh knew that was the smart plan, the _logical_ plan. So why did he feel so opposed to it? “And leave her with that knight doing who-knows-what to her?”

The others were staring at him again, Zach looking particularly worried for his friend’s mental stability. “Um, is all the attention going to your head? You seem to forget that we _aren’t_ these legendary heroes everyone assumes we are!”

“Maybe we are.”

The quiet voice of Leslie Meyers was as unexpected as her words were, so despite the fact that it was barely audible, she caught everyone’s attention. The timid girl quelled under their stares, muttering an apology until her brother asked in a gentle tone the other two had never heard him use before: “What makes you say that, Les?”

She swallowed hard, looking away. “It’s just that—we each found apparently magical crystals that brought us to a fantasy world where people expect great things from us. I don’t know about you, but that’s similar to a lot of fairy tales and fantasy novels I’ve read.”

“Except this _isn’t_ a novel,” Zach shot back, his harsh tone making Leslie flinch and earning a glare from Matt. “What kind of skills and qualifications do we have? What on _earth_ makes you think we can do this?”

“Can it, Prehill!” Matt snapped, stepping between the red mage and his sister. “She’s got a solid point based on precedent. I’ll admit I’ve gone my entire life thinking magic was just a story. Well, news flash: now we’re in a world where that story is apparently a reality. Leslie could be right—maybe those other parts of the story are a reality here, too. Besides, anyone who _could_ help us is apparently over a bridge that won’t be repaired unless we do this.”

Zach stared at his rival in disbelief. “What—one word from your little sister and you completely change your mind? _You_ were the one suggesting we bolt tomorrow!”

“I tend to defer to her experience,” Matt shot back in a dry tone, “She _is_ thirty minutes older. Besides, she only speaks up when she’s given something a lot of thought, so she’s usually at least partially right.”

Josh looked between the arguing mages and the now-silent figure in white (who apparently was Matt’s _twin_ sister. Josh was beginning to realize just how much he didn’t know about the siblings), unwilling to step in entirely, but a thought occurred to him that he felt worth sharing. “We do have the advantage of numbers: four on one. That could help offset his experience. Plus, you heard what Undar said about balance: we’ve got magic on our side, Garland doesn’t.”

Zach and Matt both focused on him again, but this time, they looked more thoughtful than surprised or worried. “He’s got a point,” Matt mused aloud, glancing back at his sister. “I’ll be the first to admit that Leslie and I should_ not_ be front-row fighters, but if we get the hang of a few of these spells, we could blast him from the distance, keep him off-balance while you two attack. Or at least, I could while Leslie keeps you two healthy with her healing and protection spells.”

“But if he’s such a great swords man, even two-on-one, how much of a chance do we have in a direct confrontation?” Zach couldn’t help asking.

Matt tilted his head to one side as if thinking, and for once, he directly addressed the red mage without a touch of condescension in his tone. “Don’t try to fight him with _his_ strengths, use your own.” This earned him blank stares, and a touch of annoyance crept back into the younger boy’s voice. “You’re football players, right? Athletes? Used to a lot of long hours practicing footwork and strategies for a type of in-person confrontation? If we square off against a few monsters before heading into the shrine, maybe you two could figure out how to adapt that to sword play.”

In the end, it was with great reluctance and an overwhelming sense of ‘we can’t decently do anything else’ that the four of them decided to at least try to rescue Sara from Garland. In the end, it was Zach who summed it up best just before the four teens turned in for the night:

“Who knows? Maybe if we get killed in the battle, we’ll wake up back home to find this is all a terrible dream.”

* * *

They set out early the next morning, none able to sleep in thanks to dreams of home and nerves regarding the coming day’s adventure. Matt was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one who’d woken up, disappointed to find himself still in the inn of a strange town in a stranger world, instead of safe at home. With that undeniable confirmation (at least in his mind) that this was not, in fact, a terrible dream, the newly appointed black mage felt the weight of responsibility settle onto his shoulders. By hell or high water, he had to get he and his sister home safely to their parents. The Meyers family was very close, and Matt couldn’t imagine what his parents would go through if he and Leslie vanished without a trace—or worse, if their bodies turned up, somehow.

_They’ve probably already noticed you’ve gone. _A voice in the back of his mind pointed out. _It’s ben at least twenty-four hours here, in this world, not counting the missing night. You’re banking on the time lines being different, like in ,ost fantasy stories. If they’re not, your parents are already out of their mind._

_Shut up! _Matt shot back, his customary scowl deepening—not that anyone could see it, now. _That’s all the more reason to get this done and find someone to send us home. I’ve just got to keep Leslie safe until then._

_And what about the others?_ That same, pernicious voice insisted. _You planning to try and protect them?_

_They’re allies, not family. I’ll pull my weight and hope they do the same without expecting them to. Prehill’s always been a slacker—why should that change now? I won’t abandon them, but I won’t rely on them, either._

“Hey, Meyers—hurry it up! You asleep back there?”

Matt glowered at Zach, who had been the source of the call, but he did speed up his walking pace a little, unaware that he was walking, as he had since their arrival in this strange world, between the two athletes and Leslie.

* * *

The walk to the Chaos Shrine was not exactly uneventful—on several occasions, the party was set upon by more goblins, as well as some wolves, spiders, and even a couple of mad horses (which Leslie, a horse lover, seemed particularly upset by). Matt found himself using his staff for the most part, not because he was an overly effective fighter, but because he wanted to keep his magic in reserve until the ‘big battle’ came. Leslie, for her part, did occasionally supplement one of the group’s healing potions with some healing spells in an attempt to stretch their supplies.

Zach did try out a spell or two, but he was more focused on trying to implement Matt’s advice and adapt his football strategy to battle (of course, he’s rather have died than admit that he was giving in to any point the younger boy had, but he _did_ recognize sound logic when he encountered it). Josh was doing the same, though not with as much success as his lankier, quicker friend. He was beginning to understand Undar’s disdain for the light blade and armor that Cornelia seemed to offer warriors, thieves, and red mages alike.

Still, they made it safe and whole to the shrine as the sun set, electing to camp outside and attempt their rescue in the morning.

* * *

“Remember what the chancellor told us,” Matt reviewed as they broke camp the next morning. “The scouts reported that Garland’s holed up in a room directly in front of the entrance, so all we have to do is charge in and keep running straight ahead, taking out the big guy himself in a hard and fast strike, then getting the hell out of there, hopefully with princess in tow.”

“Yeah, but I’m more stuck on what he said about that report coming from the _surviving_ scouts,” Zach growled, never the morning person, and not one to face certain death with a grin on his face.

Josh noticed Leslie flinch at that and spoke up with more confidence than he felt. “Well, Mr. Optimist, they _were_ trying to examine the _whole_ shrine, and we’ve only got to deal with a part of it. Besides, they were scouts, not fighters. We’ll be fine.” He could tell from Zach’s expression that his friend was still unconvinced, but at least he was now keeping his gloomier thoughts to himself. Josh caught Leslie’s grateful look and felt his heartrate increase slightly, then quickly turned away, reminding himself there actually was more to Zach’s pessimism than he’d verbally acknowledged. Not time to be distracted.

* * *

Just as they reached the door barring them from Garland, they found the way blocked by rotting corpses wearing the uniform of Cornelian scouts—to their surprise and terror, the unfortunate remnants of the scouting party were quite lively for dead men, and seemed intent on the party’s demise.

“Guess we know now why Garland doesn’t take prisoners,” Josh growled, drawing his rapier. Before he could strike, however, he heard Leslie muttering behind them, then bright beams of light lanced over his shoulder and disintegrated the zombies.

Zach glanced back at the white mage with a jealous expression. “Man, I wish red mages can learn those holy-based spells, they really are as effective as that saleswoman promised.”

Leslie managed a small smile. “You were able to learn a basic fire spell right? Apparently those are just as useful against the undead.”

Matt couldn’t help snorting. “He didn’t just learn it—he almost burned down the shop. Apparently our friend here is a budding pyromaniac.”

“I believe the shop owner’s term was ‘has a propensity for flame-based spells.’ Anyway, all the scrolls are fire-proof, so there wasn’t any real damage done.”

“If you’re done,” Josh cut in, “I think it’s time we meet our host.” He grimaced. “That sounded really cheesy, didn’t it?”

“Wisconsin-level,” Zach affirmed as the door swung open, revealing a man in full armor, looming over a bound and still form of a girl—presumably, Princess Sara—and monologue-ing.

“Soon, the king will have no choice but to exchange his kingdom for his daughter’s life—Cornelia will be mine!”

“Cliché much?” Zach drawled, finally drawing the man’s attention.

Garland growled at the sight of the four teens. “What have we here—the king’s lapdogs? Well no matter, for I, Garland,” he paused, drawing his longsword dramatically, “will knock you all down!”

There was a moment of silence following his declaration, and Zach, despite the dangerous-looking blade, was having trouble fighting back a laugh. Nevertheless, he was able to muster an admirable deadpan expression and tone for his retort: “Never mind: stick to the clichés. They suit you better.”

With a furious roar, (which the red mage granted _was_ a cliché—sort of) the one-time knight charged the four. Josh and Zach moved to intercept him while the siblings dropped back and circled away.

Josh felt his armor harden suddenly just as he side-stepped Garland’s initial rush, managing to nick his larger opponent on the arm as the older man stumbled by off-balance. _Must be Leslie’s protect spell. Too bad she has to cast that one-at-a-time—feels useful._

It was, too—no sooner had it taken effect on Zach than a lucky blow landed on his shoulder—by rights, one that should’ve taken his arm off, as it was, it ended up being a deep but not life-threatening cut. Zach hissed in pain, dropping his blade for a moment. Josh tried to move in front of his friend, but Garland was quick, backhanding the red mage and sending him crashing into a pillar.

A lightning bolt flashed, traveling down the large sword and sparking over Garland’s armor, wounding their foe and distracting him from a kill-strike, as Leslie crept around, already muttering the first part of the healing spell under her breath as she approached Zach.

Knowing he had to keep the former knight’s attention away from the mage—who would be nearly defenseless during the spell casting, especially if she hadn’t yet cast the protection spell on herself—Josh charged him, got another hit in, then darted away, and Garland followed, screaming in anger and pain from beneath his helmet. “I’ll kill all of you, one by one! Your leadership is their doom!” He aimed the last part at Josh, who was still doing his best to dodge the larger weapon, despite not being built for speed or agility.

The warrior tried not to flinch at the implicit threat to their others, but, seeing movement from the corner of his eye, he shot back, “Then it’s a good thing I’m _not _the leader!” With that, he moved just far enough aside, allowing Zach (who’d recovered both his health and weapon) to reach Garland, shouting the last part of his fire spell while driving his rapier into a gap between plates of the armor.

There was a dying scream, the muffled sound of an explosion and the nauseating smell of burned flesh, then silence as Matt finally dared to come near the fallen form. “What did I say?” He dryly observed at last. “You’re a budding pyromaniac, Prehill.”

“You seem a bit trigger-happy with the lightning yourself, Meyers,” the taller boy snapped back, but the black mage wasn’t listening, having caught sight of a slumped figure over by one of the pillars.

“_LESLIE!_” at the hoarse cry, the other two turned, and joined their younger companion in running back to his sister, though they held back a few feet, while Matt knelt beside the white-robed figure.

She didn’t seem to be injured, Josh noted, but that didn’t make him feel that much better when he saw the glazed look in the white mage’s eyes when she at last raised her head. “I-I’m alright,” she managed at last, the weakness in her voice betraying her true state. “J-just tired. That last healing spell was harder than I thought...”

“You over exerted yourself!” her brother scolded, harsh words softened slightly by the worry in his tone. “Don’t you remember what those shop owners told us about magical exhaustion? You’re lucky to still be conscious! No more magic until after we’re back in Cornelia—maybe even for a few days after that. Prehill can handle all the rest of the healing until you’re better.” He glared at the red mage as if daring him to protest or disagree—not that Zach was disposed to.

“Yeah, I got it, Leslie. You just rest up. And... thanks. You probably saved my life, there.”

Josh was still concerned for the girl, but it seemed her brother wasn’t about to leave her side, so he supposed the situation there was under control. “Speaking of saving...”

As if all remembering their actual mission at once, they crossed to the bound princess, cutting the ropes, and noticing with great relief that she was still breathing. All at once, her eyes opened, she yawned, stretched, and only then seemed to notice them. “Y-You defeated Garland? You must be here to rescue me! Well, thank you. Shall we go home?”

Zach looked at the others, his face more stunned than it had been after he’d been tackled by 190-lb defensive end his sophomore year. “You mean,” he said at last, “she was _asleep_ through all of that?”

* * *

Whether because the monster hoards were terrified of the warriors who had defeated Garland, or whether Garland had instructed them to leave the princess for him, they weren’t attacked once on their way back to Cornelia, allowing them to make the trip in what remained of that day.

Once she noticed the crystals that her rescuers held, the young princess couldn’t keep her excitement to herself. “You mean you are the Warriors of Light—the ones from Lukahn’s prophecy—and you came to save _me_?”

“We’re actually still unclear on that,” Josh admitted, and Zach glared at his friend before rushing in to cover and maintain their story.

“What he means to say is, the crystals were family heirlooms, and we were never told the significance of them. Along with a few poor weapons and some supplies, they were all we were able to salvage from the wreckage,” he explained, and the confusion in the princess’s eyes began to clear. “Our village was mostly peaceful, and nearly completely isolated. We’ve never even heard of this prophecy that everyone keeps talking about, or what its significance really is. I don’t suppose _you_ could tell us—save us from appearing fools before your father?”

It was around that time the others began to appreciate the advantages of their ‘isolated fishing village’ backstory—it was the perfect excuse to ask questions that otherwise would garner suspicions. The princess, however, only shook her head apologetically. “I do apologize, good sirs—lady—but even I have not heard the prophecy in its entirety. But I will tell you what I know! The world is decaying, monsters growing in power, and there are rumors of terrible forces awakening. I asked my father if the world was going to end, and all he said was not to worry—there was a man in Crescent Lake who had prophesied that four Warriors of Light would come and set all to right. We would know them by the crystals they had with them.”

“That’s _it_?” Matt demanded. “All we get is some general nonsense about saving the world with no clue of how we’re even supposed to go about that? If these blasted shards _are_ tied to that prophecy, they probably won’t activate again until they think we’ve finished the job!”

This only served to confuse Sara even further, and it was all Zach could do to keep himself from punching Matt for speaking so carelessly. As it was, he settled for stepping hard on the black mage’s foot while summoning his most charming smile for the princess. “Forgive our traveling companion...he is deeply interested in the strange magical properties of these relics—they’re like nothing we’ve encountered before, and he hates not being able to understand them.”

To his immense relief, Sara seemed to accept his explanation, and continued to ramble about the heroes’ reception that would be awaiting them upon their return.

* * *

“...Thank you for rescuing my daughter, Sara. There can be no doubt you are, indeed, the Warriors of Light from Lukahn’s prophecy. If I may, the prophecy says: ‘When the world is veiled in darkness, four Warriors of Light shall come, bearing crystals.’”

The four teens waited a moment, then realized the king had said his piece. “That’s _all _the prophecy says?” Zach asked, dismayed. “We were hoping for a little more to go on.”

“Pardon me,” the chancellor broke in, stepping forward. The sour mood the older man had displayed on their last visit to the castle apparently had melted away in the face of what he deemed proof of their identity as the legendary heroes. “Many of us were likewise confounded by the prophecy’s lack of detail, but Lukahn seemed certain. Perhaps there was more he didn’t tell us—parts meant for you four only? It would be worthwhile to ask him. Unfortunately, Crescent Lake can only be reached by ship, and we currently have none.”

“However,” the king broke in, “after the bridge to the north is repaired—which will be in a day or less—you may continue on to Pravoka, as you had planned; they are a city built on sea-trade: surely you could hire a ship there to take you to Crescent Lake, where you may seek guidance from Lukahn.”

Zach looked at the others, seeing the same worry and resignation in their expressions that he felt—once again, there didn’t seem to be anything else they could do. And if this Lukahn figure had a hand in the prophecy, maybe he was a powerful enough magician to get them home. “Thank you, your majesty, for your sage advice.”

A few more formalities later, and they knew they were dismissed. Before they left the throne room however, Sara ran up to them. “I know the urgency of your mission means the customary celebratory banquets and parades are out of the question, but will you at least take this as a symbol of my gratitude? Like your crystals, it is a family heirloom sacred to the princesses of Cornelia. I know not how, but perhaps it can aid you in your journey.” With her speech finished, she handed over a lute, which Josh took, glancing at the others as if to ask ‘what do I do now?’

It was actually Leslie who rescued him this time, managing a curtsey, despite not being complete steady on her feet yet. “Thank you, your highness. We will care for it, and hopefully return it to your family when our journey is done.”

_Finally_, they were able to escape back to the inn, though none of them expected to sleep well with all that had been revealed that day.

* * *

Before they set out the next morning, they turned in the heads of the monsters they’d slain before facing Garland, planning to use the money to stock up on supplies for their journey to Pravoka. Leslie, however, pulled a significant portion of the funds aside.

“What for?” Zach asked. “We’ve got all the spells, weapons, and armor we can get from this place.”

All the girl would say in response was, “You made a promise,” and since she _had_ saved his life in the battle—at no small risk to her own—the red mage followed her with no more protest. The four made their way back to the weapons shop, where the white mage handed the money over to a surprised Undar.

“This—this is more than I loaned you,” the older man observed, a question in his eyes.

Leslie took a deep breath before replying. “You gave us more than a loan—you taught us much about what to expect, and calmed us when we didn’t know what we were getting ourselves into. Were it not for you, we’d never have been able to rescue Sara. Our mission is bigger now than we thought—bigger than we think we can handle—but whatever successes we have will find their root here in the seeds of kindness and wisdom you planted.”

“Lass...” Undar’s voice trailed off as he shook his head. “I don’t know if I could ever answer the question of whether heroes are born or made, but whichever it is, I could sense there was something about the four of you as soon as you came in. I need no extra gil, I will take only what you owe me for the spells, and hear no more of it. Just keep yourselves safe, and come back and see an old man when you can, eh? Just so I can see what you become?”

The four were struck speechless by his sincerity, and the tears and pride both mingled in the eyes of the first friend they’d made in that world. This time, when Zach promised they’d do as Undar asked them, he had no intention of breaking his word.

* * *

The bridge was finished later that morning, according to the king’s word, and the four teens were the first people to cross the new structure. At the halfway point, they paused as a realization struck home. It was Josh who finally gave it a voice.

“This—this is real. I mean, let’s face it: we’ve all read enough of these stories to know what Lukahn’ll say. We’ll have to complete some kind of long, dangerous mission—save the world, or something—before the crystals will activate and send us home.”

“Someone gave us the crystals,” Matt pointed out. “Someone picked us, and they think we can do this.”

“I guess we better pray that they’re right,” Zach observed dryly.

They stood in silence a few minutes more, but as had happened already twice before, they all knew they had no choice but to press on if they ever wanted to see their families again. Yet the morning was so bright, the wind crisp, blowing the scents of the strange plants of that world into their faces, none of the four could deny that a thrill went through them at the thought of actually being heroes.

* * *

On the opposite side, however, the moment had passed, and Josh noticed Leslie’s shoulders were shaking. Despite the young mage’s swift recovery from the previous day’s exhaustion, Josh worried, so he came beside her and asked, “Hey, you doing okay?” He trailed off as he saw the tears on her face. Her shoulders had been shaking from crying, not weariness.

The warrior felt the same surge of protectiveness as he had the first time he saw the younger girl cry, and couldn’t help asking, “Hey, what’s wrong, Leslie?”

“This—this is too big,” Leslie admitted in a tiny voice. “I’m a nobody at school for a reason—there’s nothing special about me. I mean, you’re strong, Zach’s pretty skilled all-around, and Matt’s incredibly smart. But me...I’ve never done anything extraordinary.”

“I’m not sure I’d call knocking down other kids on a turf field extraordinary,” Josh mumbled, nevertheless pleased at her complement. “But you _did_ save Zach’s life—and mine—with those protect and healing spells. You kept us honest with Undar, and you heard what he said about the heart of a white mage being their greatest strength—you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve met, and you manage to be gentle and strong at the same time.”

She didn’t seem completely convinced, but she managed a wan smile, at least. “Besides,” Josh pointed out, “None of us could do this on our own, it said there’d be four of us, and Undar said we cover for each other’s weaknesses with our individual gifts. And that’s just what we’ll do.”

* * *

_And so their journey began._

_The four Warriors of Light felt overwhelmed by the great task destiny had placed upon them. They did not know the true significance of the four crystals they held in their hands... The crystals that once, long ago, shone with a light so brilliant. _

_The time for their journey had come. The time to cast off the veil of darkness and bring the world, once more, into the light..._


	4. Alongside Pirates

_“Who can survive such a dangerous mission alongside pirates with zero ambition?” (Newsboys, “Yo-Ho Hero”)_

* * *

“_How_ on earth did we get lost if you have a _map?_ Just explain it, Meyers, so that I can understand.”

Matt glared at his rival, but didn’t reply, egging Zach to continue his rant. “And wasn’t it _you_ who’s always showing off in geography class? Wonder what Mr. Oberlander would say if he could see his star pupil now.”

“Zach, stop. Just—stop,” Josh said, intervening at last. None of the four could see Matt’s expression through the void under the hat, but the would-be warrior really didn’t like the side of his friend that kept coming out around the younger boy. Whether or not Matt could take care of himself, Zach still didn’t have the right to lay into him like that.

Zach snorted, but relented, snatching the map from the black mage and glowering at it. “Wait, from the looks of it, there was only one place we could’ve gone wrong, and it was back at the bridge—two _days_ ago! You mean to tell me we’ve been wading through goblins and snakes and spiders—not to mention those lizards now—for _two_ days, and we aren’t any closer to our destination?”

“I might point out,” Matt cut in, every word practically vibrating with anger. “That the wrong turn occurred _before_ I claimed map duty? By the time I realized what had happened, we were closer to here than there, and if you look on the map, you’ll see that around here somewhere is _supposed_ to be a pass that can get us back on the right track.”

“Wait,” Josh cut in, glaring at Zach to keep quiet for once. “You knew we’d gone wrong, and you didn’t tell us? Why not? We’re supposed to be a team...”

Zach didn’t heed his older friend’s warning, muttering just loud enough for the others to overhear. “Save your breath—Meyers doesn’t know the meaning of the word.”

“I know what happened to the pass,” Leslie said at last, breaking the tense silence that had all three boys glaring daggers at each other. “Look—there must’ve been an earth quake or rockslide or something.”

Sure enough, their last chance for a short cut was now completely blocked by rubble. “Looks like we’ve got to use another tent,” Zach grumbled. “Man, these things aren’t cheap.”

“Maybe we won’t have to,” Josh replied, pointing. “There’s a cave over there.”

Matt’s eyes narrowed, and his voice was heavy with its customary biting tone, plus a hefty dash of sarcasm. “Right. Because in a strange world populated by monsters, an unknown cave is a great place to go poking our heads into at nightfall.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure, Meyers?” Zach shot back, apparently pleased to have any opportunity to stretch their meager supplies—however hazardous.

“Where’s you sense, period, Prehill?” Matt shot back, but he followed the two football players into the cave, reasoning he could at least do his best to keep he and his sister safe.

* * *

To their immense surprise, the cave was man-made with straight walls and clean tunnels lit by bright torches. After the first turn (perfect right angle carved out of the mountain) it was clear _how_ the place was kept so clean.

“So, is this what Mickey was going for in the Sorcerer’s Apprentice?” Zach asked, staring at the apparently self-powered brooms.

Josh could only shrug. “That’s one bit of magic I wish we had back home,” he muttered, heading for the door he’d just spotted. He opened it, then froze at the sight that greeted them.

This was a large room, but it was so cluttered with potion equipment, ingredients, scrolls, and books that it felt tiny. The room might have been neat and organized once, but now it looked like a hurricane and a tornado had had a fight in the middle of the cavern. And all of the destruction had apparently been caused by a tiny, disheveled old woman in a red dress, who kept running around, digging into piles and throwing things over her shoulder, all the while screaming, “My eye—where is it? Who could have stolen it from me?”

All at once, she halted her mad dashed and turned in the general direction of the four stunned travelers—off by a few feet, but given the vacant look in her blue eyes, it was hardly surprising—and snarled. “Was it you? Did you steal my crystal eye?”

“No, ma’am,” Josh replied instantly, not daring to move any closer.

The woman in red sniffed. “Well, I can tell that was no lie. You may stay the night then. Just ask any of the brooms to show you to the guest chambers. All I ask in return is that, if you encounter someone who’s boasting about stealing a crystal eye from Matoya, you beat ‘em up and return the eye to Matoya. That’s me,” she added, a bit unnecessarily.

“Ab-absolutely,” Josh replied, and all four teens were so shaken that they missed her knowing smile as they turned away, muttering as her guests staggered back into the hallway, minds reeling:

“Oh, Lukahn, you old fool. _These_ are the best heroes you can muster? If you asked me, I’d say you’ve finally lost it.” Absently, she kicked at a raven’s skull that’d rolled in front of her feet. She missed, of course, but her earlier display of temper was nonexistent as she dryly remarked to the empty room. “Of course, I’ve been saying that for years...One of these days, I’m bound to be right.”

[Break]

“That was...bizarre.” Josh’s observation, made as they exited Matoya’s cave and began the two-day trek to undo their error, hung in the air, the only thing that could be said of their experience with the witch.

Zach shrugged, his mood improved by a safe night’s sleep. “Maybe. But all things considered, not the worst thing to find in a cave. And we don’t have to ever go back...unless we find that eye, I guess.”

* * *

Their nights on the move had developed into a pattern, each taking two hours ‘on watch’ while the other three slept, after being ambushed by a pack of wolves their first night out from Cornelia. Leslie was given first watch, Matt second, then Zach, and finally Josh.

Two nights after leaving Matoya’s, however, once they were finally heading towards Pravoka, Matt noticed his sister lingering as he took over her position by the fire. “You okay, Leslie?” he asked reflexively. She’d fully recovered from the fight against Garland, but they were all struggling with adjusting to this new world, Leslie included. The two siblings hadn’t had much of a chance to talk about it while on the road, so Matt gestured for her to sit beside him, which she did.

“I-I think so,” she said at last. “I’m getting used to the idea, I guess. And if the last couple of days prove anything, it’s that we’re getting better at fighting as a unit.” That was true at least. “I’m more worried about you, honestly.”

_That_ got his attention, and he turned his glowing orbs to her. “What do you mean Leslie? I’m fine—you took care of that wolf bite, and I haven’t been hit since—”

“I don’t mean physically, Matt. I’ve known you my whole life—you think I don’t notice when you’re upset or sulking? I don’t need to see your face to know what you’re feeling, and I don’t think you’ve smiled or laughed once since we’ve gotten here.”

“Well, there hasn’t exactly been much to laugh about, now has there?” he snapped, harsher than he’d meant to. He turned away, not wanting to see hurt in his sister’s eyes that _he’d_ inflicted.

“See—that’s what I mean. You only lash out like that when you’re upset: if it’s been a bad day at school or something. Look, I get that it’s hard here, and I wish _we _weren’t, but I’ve been trying to think that ‘at least I’m not here on my own.’ Except that it feels like I am, sometimes.”

Matt still couldn’t look up, feeling Leslie’s words cut into him. But they made him angry, too. All this stress and pressure he was putting on himself to protect her, and she was trying to go all ‘Dr. Phil’ on him? Still not willing to admit fault, Matt tried for deferral. “Well, I guess the two meatheads just bring out the worst side of me.”

“Why? I get that you Zach don’t exactly get along, but Josh seems nice enough.”

The question cut right to the heart of the matter, he supposed. Leslie did seem to have a gift for that—a major disadvantage of having someone who’d known you before birth—and Matt thought over the truth in an attempt to find a safe lie that Leslie would believe.

Of all the school athletes Matt could remember encountering, he had to agree that Wilson was one of the better behaved—then again, the only members of that social circle who made it a point to interact with him were those prone to bullying, so it wasn’t saying much. But maybe that was the problem—Prehill being his smart-aleck, lazy self didn’t actually bother him all that much—but he hated feeling useless, helpless. And as well-intentioned as Josh had probably been when cutting off Zach’s verbal attacks, or blocking a monster’s lunge, it had the cumulative effect of making the younger boy feel like dead weight. _Patronizing_—that was the word for it.

And even Prehill had been exacerbating the problem. What before had been almost-equals exchanging insults now had turned into a constant stream of beratement and criticism unless Josh stepped in to keep his lackey in line.

“They just rub me the wrong way—not my usual circle, you know?”

Leslie didn’t reply for the longest time, but at last she sighed and said, “I’m sorry for prodding it’s just...I miss my brother.”

Matt watched silently as she stood and crossed over to her still-undisturbed bedroll, then returned to scanning the woods surrounding their camp, waiting for an attack. He marveled then, as he did from time to time, that she could look at two sides of his behavior and personality and instinctively know which one was really him.

* * *

A few days later, the sea port of Pravoka came into view. Contrary to expectations, there was only one ship currently docked there, and the sight of the skull-and-crossbones flag wasn’t exactly a reassuring one.

“_Old Blood and Guts,_” Zach read the faded name on the ship’s side. “How lovely. Looks like Bikke—supposedly the pirate we have to thank for being on our own—is the only ship in town.”

“That’s right he is, young sir!” a voice behind them called, and the four turned to see an old man standing a few feet from them, down the dock, glaring at the pirate vessel as if it had personally insulted him. “He came in a few weeks ago and destroyed all the other ships. Said he was camping here for a time, and he’s been running the joint since. No other merchant vessel dares come close, once they see who’s holed up here. We’ll be bankrupt before the year is out!”

Matt sighed dramatically, leaning on his staff. “So, if we want to be able to hire a ship to take us to Crescent Lake, we’ve got to drive the pirates out first? Sounds simple enough.”

The old man frowned. “I don’t see nothin’ simple in that, young master. Countin’ Bikke himself, that’s ten of the roughest, meanest sea dogs you’re settin’ yourself against. Course, he rarely does his own dirty work. But even so, and even with better spells and equipment—which he hasn’t even stopped the sale of, since no one here dares fighting him—I don’t see how four monster hunters as young as you have much of a chance.”

“Let’s just say we have a bit of an edge,” Zach smirked, pulling at the leather cord around his neck, lifting the crystal from its resting place beneath his shirt. With varying degrees of self-consciousness, the others did as well. The old man’s eyes grew wide.

“I never—the Warriors of Light! Yahoo!” the exclamation was coupled with a pretty impressive jump for someone as withered-looking as the ancient figure. “Pravoka will be put to right in no time, now!”

“Eh, right,” Josh replied, worried now that it was clear they wouldn’t have advantage of numbers this time. “Why don’t we see about stocking up before we take on the task of freeing the city? That is, if the bounty on monster heads still applies?”

* * *

Fortunately for the party (who’d fought quite a few monsters on the way, especially thanks to the detour), Bikke had chosen not to interfere with the bounty system, allowing them to collect their gil and stock up on better equipment, magic, and even a few more potions.

“I’m beginning to see Undar’s point about this being an expensive mix of skills,” Zach grumbled at their now-empty wallet. “If it hadn’t been for the mistake, we’d never have had enough to get all that we needed.”

“I guess we can’t put this off much longer,” Josh observed. “What’s the plan?”

“You tell me, fearless leader,” Zach joked, but a glare from his friend killed the laugh in his throat.

“I’m _not_ the leader here,” Josh insisted, before repeating: “what’s the plan?”

“Biggest threat is numbers,” Matt offered, “but I took the opportunity to grab a sleep spell that should help. If we open with that, we may only have to take on a few at a time.”

“Are we going to kill them?”

The three boys turned to the white mage, taking in the troubled look in her eyes. “It’s just—fighting Garland was mostly self-defense. We didn’t mean to kill him; he just wasn’t going to stop until we did. And those monsters we’ve been fighting aren’t sentient. But these pirates...they’re still people. Can we—will we—really kill them?”

Zach and Matt were uncharacteristically silent, and Josh found it hard to meet Leslie’s eyes. He now realized she’d barely made any attacks since the first fight against the goblins, and even then, had held back from making her blows fatal. The other white mage had mentioned it was hard for them to take a life—made sense, if their personalities were better suited for healing—but even without that consideration, she had a point.

“Let’s stick to non-fatal, if we can. Knock them out and time them up, unless they give us _no_ other choice. We’ve got to be the better men. And woman.” His offered decision earned a smile which he dared to return. Of course, Zach wasn’t one to let the moment last (but, in his defense, he likely hadn’t noticed what, exactly, was happening).

“What about incapacitating shots that happen to be really painful—you know: knees, hands, and the like? Are those still okay?”

Leslie winced a little, but shrugged as if to say, ‘if there’s no other alternative’. Her brother was a little more vocal. “Some days, you scare me, Prehill.”

“Alright, you two, save it for the pirates,” Josh cut in, trying to get everyone back on track—and ignore Zach’s muttered ‘final word.’

“You totally are the leader.”

* * *

Bikke and his nine crew members were not hard to find—standing in front of the town hall, laughing and calling insults to all passing citizens, none of who dared to even meet their tormentor’s gaze.

“I know his type,” Matt growled under his breath. “If we taunt him right, we might be able to goad him into making a mistake, but he’s likely to sic his lapdogs on us rather than fight us directly.”

“Har-har! Landlubbers in this town—they got no spine boys!”

“Maybe not,” Zach called as the two groups approached each other. “But how about taking on some who do?”

“Are you really taking on the Great Pirate Bikke? Boys, you handle the upstarts. Keel-haul them.” The pirate laughed, leaning back against the wall. The nine drew blades, smirking at the younger challengers.

“Aye-aye, cap’n! We’ll make their bones go crunch!” one called, before leering at Leslie. “Any objections if we take the girl alive, cap’n?”

Before he could receive a reply, a bolt of lightning struck the offending unfortunate, slamming him back into the wall beside Bikke where he slumped, unconscious.

“Good lord, Meyers!” Zach yelped, trying to cover his own surprise at how fast the black mage had chanted the spell—and how strong the bolt had been. “What happened to starting with the sleep spell?”

“Some things are off-limits,” the younger teen growled in response, leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind that lewd comments/gestures/thoughts about his sister topped the list. “But since you insist...” A few muttered words later, and a green cloud rolled over the eight remaining pirates, knocking six of them out and even causing Bikke to slump into a doze. “Hurry! That won’t hold them long!”

Zach and Josh needed no further urging, quickly engaging and disarming their (still-awake) opponents, although Josh thought that Zach really didn’t need to stab his foe in the knee before tying him up. While the two fighters got to work, the Meyers twins hurriedly began binding the eight other pirates—including the one blasted with lightning and Bikke himself, for good measure.

Once the pirates were helpless, the townspeople were more than willing to step in and help the Warriors of Light to transport them to the city’s jail. As much as Zach and Matt grumbled about such ‘help’, both were pleased at the unanimous decision that they could keep the pirate’s vessel, saving them the few weeks it would take for other ships to arrive.

“Finally,” Zach sighed after the crowd had dispersed. “Something went easy and went right!”

* * *

Of course, his excitement vanished as soon as he became aware of a technicality that arose the minute all four of them stood on the dock, taking in the sight of their latest acquisition.

“You mean—after everything we went through to get a ship—we have no idea how to _work_ the darn thing?”

Matt rolled his eyes as he answered his rival’s question. “Honestly, Prehill, given our background, did you think any of us knew how to sail?” He noted an odd look crossing the red mage’s face, and couldn’t help a disbelieving question from slipping out. “What—did you expect us to suddenly know just because we need to now?”

“No,” Zach grumbled, in an embarrassed tone that made it very clear the answer was ‘yes’.

“Ahoy there!” an older voice greeted them. “Word on the streets is the Warriors of Light need a good crew if they’re going to save the world!”

They turned to see the same old man from before approaching them, Matt muttering under his breath, “How _does_ that happen in this world? It’s uncanny!”

The old man continued, gesturing to ten young men who followed behind him. “Well, Gunther’s seafaring days may have been a while back, but these boyos have been training under me for most of their lives. With me at the helm and these good lads manning the vessel, we’ll get you anywhere you could possibly want to sail. If you’ll have us, that is.”

“Welcome aboard, Captain Gunther,” Zach replied, sweeping his hat from his head as he bowed dramatically. “Adventure awaits!”


	5. I've Been Dreaming

_“I’ve been dreaming of a true love’s kiss...” (“True Love’s Kiss”, _Enchanted)

* * *

_“Welcome aboard, Captain Gunther,” Zach replied, sweeping his hat from his head as he bowed dramatically. “Adventure awaits!”_

By the next day, they were ready to set sail in the commandeered vessel, renamed _Pravoka’s Pride_ at the suggestion of Gunther. Matt was keeping a close eye on his sister, who he knew to not be comfortable around boats or ships—well, water specifically, but by extension watercraft—but, for once, Leslie didn’t complain about sea sickness, nor did she regard the waves with anything even close to terror, or even worry.

In fact, their first morning at sea, the day after they left Pravoka, Matt left his cabin and came out on deck to find his sister leaning on the prow, staring ahead. “Please tell me you’re not about to make a _Titanic _reference,” he joked as he came up beside her.

“No, just...well, I don’t really know,” Leslie admitted, a contented smile on her face. “It’s just that this is the most comfortable I’ve felt since we’ve gotten here, and it’s the place I should be the most terrified, considering. Do you think I’ve finally gotten over my fear of water?”

Before Matt could reply, the lookout on duty yelled, “Sahagin! Weapons at the ready!”

The siblings turned, to see the rest of the crew stumble on deck, still half-asleep, but all armed, including Josh and Zach. It was a good thing their responses were that quick, because the attack came seconds later—about a dozen green-scaled, vaguely-humanoid figures scrambling onto the deck, hissing and jumping at the crew. Leslie knocked one overboard with her hammer (and a slight shriek, it must be admitted, though mainly triggered by surprise at the sudden attack) while her brother stunned another with a blast of his lightning. Josh, who’d gotten a lot more comfortable in combat situations since he traded in his rapier for a heavier saber in Pravoka, took out another two while Zach was finding out that fire spells really didn’t work that well on sea monsters. With a muttered curse, the red mage drew his own saber, joining his friend and the rest of their crew in armed combat. In moments, the deck was clear of living foes, though it would take some cleaning to get rid of the monster’s blood and scales.

“Really should have learned that lightning spell,” Zach grumbled. “And I would have, too, except that Meyers would’ve made a bad joke about me stealing his thunder.”

* * *

Three days later, the ship had reached what was _supposed_ to be a canal that would allow them into the open sea, where it would be a week and a half’s sailing around the coast to get to Crescent Lake, where Lukahn supposedly was. It was a solid plan, save for one small detail...

“Um, Gunther,” Josh asked hesitantly, standing with the captain and the other three teens at the front of the ship, “not to criticize or anything, but where’s the canal?”

For his part, the elderly captain was staring at the heaps of rubble and rock barring their path as if the earth had personally offended him. “I don’t believe it! The only way out of the Aldi Sea, and it’s blocked! Sea-bound trade will dry up and die within a year! Those blasted elves...”

“Wait, what do elves have to do with a blocked canal?” Zach asked, deciding to simply accept that elves were apparently a thing in this world. _Play it cool, accept the status quo_.

“They’re pretty powerful magicians, see, and they like to experiment, but they don’t clean up well afterwards. I’d wager a day’s wages that this is another one of their little messes. I’m gonna suggest we change course and drop in on the dwarves at Mt. Duregar, about a day’s sailing and another day’s walk from here, and see if they’ve got any ideas on clearing that mess.”

Josh felt the older man’s eyes on him, but he held his tongue, refusing to cave in to this world’s expectation that he be the one to lead, waiting until Zach spoke up. “Sounds like a plan—um, these dwarves are friendly—yes?”

“Of course they are, young master! Why would you think that I would take you somewhere that wasn’t safe?”

All four thought of the near constant sea-battles since that second morning, but decided not to mention them, as Zach tried to dodge the question. “Um, no reason....”

* * *

Two days later, Gunther led them into the main cavern of the dwarven settlement under Mt. Duregar. True to his words, the locals seemed delighted to have visitors, especially one they recognized:

“Ach, well if it ain’t the auld water-whomper Gunther. How’d ye get roped back inta sailin’?”

“These four saved my city from pirates, least I could do was get ‘em to Crescent Lake so they could go on savin’ the world,” their guide replied to the speaker, who grinned and chuckled as he replied.

“Nae, I reckon ye was just lookin’ fer an excuse to get back out on yer beloved sea—eh?”

“You got me there, Smyth. “ Gunther shrugged, then seemed to remember why he’d come. “But I got a problem with that plan—see. Looks like the elves blocked up the canal, and we’re trapped in the Aldi Sea.”

The dwarf, Smyth, shook his head. “Ach, that weren’t no elves—t’was an earthquake. Nerrrick be workin’ on the problem now, but he’s gotten stuck. Says he needs some Nitro powder to unblock it, but he’s got no clue where any is. Reckons the elves might have some, but we can’t get down to Elfheim to ask. Think ye can drop in on ‘em and see?”

Gunther didn’t seem happy, but if there was anything he disliked more than the idea of going to Elfheim, it was apparently the idea of what would happen to the sea trade if the canal wasn’t unblocked, so he agreed, and they began the day’s trek back to _Pravoka’s Pride_.

* * *

Gunther paced the deck, looking at the four. “The Elfheim port proper can’t be reached with the canal in the state she’s in, but there’s another one half a day’s march from the castle, so that’s where we’re bound. I don’t suppose you boyos would mind makin’ the request? I’ve had a few run-ins with elven vessels, and they ain’t left the best impression. Call it an instinct, but you may need to talk to the royal family, and I don’t know as how I can stay that polite and proper.”

They only spent a second picturing the outcome of their gruff, blunt, and apparently prejudiced captain and guide confronting a royal family he didn’t have the kindest feeling towards before two or three voices chorused in unison. “Don’t worry, Captain Gunther, we’ll handle it.”

* * *

While Gunther and his crew stayed with the ship, the four teens made their way towards Elfheim. Or, at least, they headed in the direction they _hoped_ would bring them to Elfheim.

“Trees, trees, and more trees!” Zach growled, swinging his saber at the underbrush. “There are literally _no_ landmarks in this forest. If we get lost, it’ll be a week or more before we notice!”

Leslie, who’d been enjoying the shade of the quiet forest, glanced away knowing full well what was coming. Her brother would counter Zach’s claim in that sharp tone he seemed to use all the time now, insulting the red mage, and spawning an argument that would stretch on and on, until Josh finally had enough of it and snapped at one or both of them to shut up. It’d become quite the regular occurrence since their journey began, and the quiet girl was sick of it.

And not just because she hated seeing her brother upset or angry—which she did. The constant tension and anger were becoming a palpable presence that she downright loathed. The bonds holding their team together were fragile enough as it was, and Leslie feared that, if nothing changed, they wouldn’t last very long.

Before the argument Leslie was bracing herself for truly began, however, Zach found his sabre stuck at the peak of one of its swings, the blade lodged in something just off the path that he couldn’t see. “Just great,” he growled, giving it an experimental tug, which did nothing. He pulled harder, feeling something move, but the third and hardest pull—the one which finally dislodged his sabre—was met with an outraged, inhuman roar.

The traveling party froze, silently watching as a gigantic, purple humanoid stumbled onto the path, alternating between glaring at them, and glaring at the new sword-cut on its oaken club before roaring again. No words, just bestial rage.

“What. Is. _That?”_ Zach managed.

Matt snorted as he drew the dagger he’d acquired in Pravoka (the two swordsmen had not been the only ones to upgrade their equipment), stepping back as he drawled, “No idea, but an educated guess would posit that you’ve made it mad.”

“Not helpful!” Zach yelped, dodging the first swing of the enormous club. Apparently, the whatever-it-was hated red as much as a bull (or else somehow knew that it was Zach who’d attacked his weapon), because it focused all its effort on crushing the desperately dodging mage, completely ignoring the other three. They made full use of its distraction, the mages slipping behind the gigantic creature while Josh charged its blind spot, saber out. Just as he stabbed his weapon home, Matt finished one of his newer spells—an ice spell—resulting in an icicle stabbing into the back of the creature’s neck and finishing it off.

They took a moment to catch their breath, staring at the corpse, before Matt finally broke the silence. “That’s not going to be a fun head to carry around until we can turn it in. Prehill, since it was your fault we got into the battle, I believe you should have the honors.”

“What—_me?_ No way, man—you killed it, you carry it!”

“Guys, knock it off—we want to make it to Elfheim before sundown, don’t we?”

Leslie groaned to herself, trying to resist the urge to cover her ears with her hands like a child.

* * *

Sadly, that was neither the last argument nor the last encounter with those thick-skulled humanoids on their journey to the elven city, and it was a very dispirited, very irritable party that stumbled into Elfheim about an hour after sunset that evening.

“There’s no way the royal family will want to see us at this hour—especially not looking like this,” Matt pointed out. “How about we turn in for our bounties, then grab a room at the inn, clean up, and request an audience tomorrow?”

“Finally, a suggestion that is both intelligent and useful,” Zach grumbled, ignoring the dirty looks from both Josh and Matt. At this point, having the last word was a matter of pride.

* * *

“I’m afraid you can’t speak to the Elven Prince,” the guards informed them the next morning. “He’s asleep.”

The four exchanged incredulous looks. “And you can’t wake him up?” Zach ventured at last.

The head guard shrugged helplessly. “Personally, I’d love to. But I’m not a magician—and even the best we have can’t unravel the spell the dark elf cast on the prince. It’s been five years, now.”

Matt frowned—at least, the tone of voice he used indicated a thoughtful or confused frown, it was impossible to see to tell for certain. “So a dark elf put a sleeping curse on the elf prince. Then what—he just left? Job well done?”

“No, we managed to run him and his minions off, same as we’ve been able to stop him every time he tries to come back. The initial attack came out of nowhere, or we’d have been in time to stop him and save the prince,” the guard finished.

Josh couldn’t help his very confused question. “There’s just one other thing I don’t get: why tell us? This doesn’t exactly sound like something you’d confide in nay travelers who ask to see the prince...”

His voice trailed off at the hopeful expressions the elven guards had turned on him, recognizing it—it was the same desperate look on the king of Cornelia’s face, before his request. Sure enough...

“Yes, young master, but you _aren’t_ just any travelers—you are the Warriors of Light! We have been unable to mount an attack into Astos’s stronghold, where he surely has the secret of his spell, as we must remain here and defend the kingdom...”

“But we’ve got magic crystals, so surely we could handle this one little errand....” Zach muttered under his breath. Aloud, he phrased it a _little_ more pleasantly, “And you were hoping we could go in, get the counter-spell, and assist in restoring your prince? Who, in return, might tell us what he knows about Nitro powder?”

To his (and Josh’s) increased annoyance, the guard directed his answer, as he had all other comments, to the warrior, and not to the party member who’d spoken. “That is the essence of our request. If anyone can finally rid our land of Astos’s filth, it is surely you and your fellow Warriors of Light.”

* * *

The blond boy managed to hold his tongue until they were in the privacy of their inn room, taking stock of what money they had at their disposal to upgrade weapons, equipment, supplies, and, most importantly, magic.

“Why does everyone seem to assume that I’m the leader? I’m sick of it!”

Zach shrugged, apparently having gotten over his earlier displeasure. “Hey, I don’t exactly enjoy being overlooked, but you got to admit—in every fantasy story, the big, strong guy with the sword and the heart of honesty and courage (or whatever other sentimental nonsense the author decides to add to the qualifications list) generally takes the lead. They always overlook the diplomat, it seems...”

“If you’re our diplomat,” Matt growled half-heartedly, “we’re in real trouble.”

“Well, it certainly isn’t you. The closest you’ve ever come to being a silver-tongued charmer is the metallic taste in your mouth after a strong burst of lightning!”

Josh groaned, fighting off an emerging headache. “Just knock it off, you two—that isn’t even what we were talking about.”

“And there’s another thing—the leader’s the one who stops the arguments, right? Keeps the others in line? Plus you’re the oldest, and, (as much as this pains me to point out) the strongest; it just make sense in their minds, I guess.” Zach was apparently more upset by the pile of gil in front of him, pitifully small, compared to local rates, then Josh’s ‘predicament’. “And I don’t see what you’re complaining about. Leader’s a cushy gig—you get to boss us around and impress all the girls.”

Josh was very carefully _not_ looking at Leslie after Zach’s comment, and realized he wasn’t about to win anyone to his side anytime soon. Besides, the more he made a point of it, drew attention to it, the less likely it was to go away. “I just don’t feel comfortable taking charge,” was all he managed to say, knowing it went far deeper than that. He could feel Leslie’s eyes on him, silently asking, but he wasn’t about to go into further detail at that time.

Not when they had a job to do...


	6. If I Wear a Mask

_“Now I see: if I wear a mask I can fool the world, but I cannot fool my heart...” (“Reflection”, _Mulan_)_

* * *

As it turned out, they didn’t set out right away. The local weapons, armor, and magic were too tempting, especially if any of the rumors about Astos’s power were to be believed. Unfortunately, Elfheim’s prices were nearly as dangerous—at least, to their pocketbooks. That meant two solid days of monster hunting in the woods surrounding the town, thinning the local hordes of wolves and ogres (which, they learned, was the name of the creatures they’d struggled with the day before).

Even with the new equipment they’d managed to afford after their first journey to the city, the battles were still difficult, and Zach pointed out that was nothing if not an indicator of a lengthy delay around the elven city in the near future. It was Leslie who brought up the point that they would probably need to fill Gunther and the crew in on the situation, lest their captain worry. Thus, their two days of monster hunting were actually a case of multi-tasking on the trip to their ship and back. Their return was slightly delayed however, by Gunther’s protests.

“Why can’t they solve the problem themselves? It’s none of your business, and you’ve got places to be—you’ve got to get the canal unblocked!”

Matt’s patience—never his strong suit to begin with—was stretched nearly to the breaking point. “Why couldn’t you solve the problem of Bikke yourselves? It wasn’t any of our business, and we had to get to Crescent Lake! Whatever beef you’ve got with the elves, don’t let it turn you into a hypocrite, Gunther, it doesn’t suit you!”

The older man glanced away, clearly wrestling with pride and sympathy, when Leslie spoke up. “If being the Warriors of Light means it’s our job to save the world, doesn’t that mean we have to save it for everybody—even the elves?”

Gunther’s stormy expression softened at the white mage’s gentle tone, and he even managed a small smile for the girl. “Aye, miss. I suppose I wouldn’t know much about that, but you would, seein’ as it’s your business. You’re the Warriors of Light, not me. Do what you must. We’ll keep cleaning and fixin’ up _Pravoka’s Pride_ until no one’d ever know what scum of the sea used to defile her boards.”

* * *

Upon their return, they discovered that, while they could afford the rest of the weapons and armor upgrades, as well as three more spells a piece for the mages, there was still magic they could only think wistfully of. Zach, for once, tried to be the optimist.

“Hey, if we survive our assault on Astos, we should have plenty of gil for the rest of the spells.”

The others couldn’t argue that point, and with nothing else that could be said or done, the party set out.

* * *

All they had been told was that Astos always came from the northwest whenever he attacked. A day’s journey in that direction soon showed how flimsy a lead that was: except for a mountain pass northwest of the city, Elfheim was cut off from the rest of the continent. Still, it was all they’d been given, so that was the direction they continued to travel, fighting the monsters that constantly jumped out in attempted ambushes.

As big and imposing as the ogres and their chiefs were, they could not by any stretch of the imagination be deemed intelligent, and that fact, coupled with their Elven upgrades, meant the battles were much easier than they’d been but a few days before. For the most part, that was. There was always the possibility that things could go wrong...

It started out as a typical battle—two normal, purple-skinned ogres and their green-hued boss—with Josh taking out one of the normal ogres as he charged passed, intent on the bigger, greener obstacle. Zach and Matt hit the other normal ogre with magic at the same time. However, a lack of communication had Zach trying to use fire while Matt used ice, causing the spells to cancel each other out and do no more than confuse their target for a moment (not a difficult task when dealing with ogres, it must be admitted).

The brute stumbled back, a lucky swing of its club catching Matt in the shoulder and knocking the black mage off the path. Leslie ran to her brother, to see if he needed help, thinking that Zach had the ogre’s attention. But the lanky boy was still blinking spots out of his eyes, having been staring right at the heart of the spells during the collision, and he didn’t see the creature lock its furious gaze onto the two weaker mages.

Josh turned, having dispatched his second target, just in time to see the ogre raise its club, ready to send it crashing down onto the white-robed figure. The warrior charged desperately, already swinging his battle-axe, roaring a wordless yell in hopes to distract the ogre.

Leslie looked up at the sound and froze in position, hoping that her body would be enough of a shield for her still disoriented brother. She closed her eyes instinctively, but the crushing blow she was anticipating never came, as Josh’s charge accomplished its intended goal, causing the ogre to turn. The aborted blow hit its new target with much less force than it would’ve landed on Leslie, and it was not enough to stop the arc of the axe’s swing. The head of the axe thudded home, ending the threat and battle both, but the ogre’s dying gurgle was lost in the yelp of pain Josh was not quite able to smother.

* * *

They pitched camp shortly afterward; Josh refusing care from both Zach and Leslie, insisting that the team waste neither magical energy nor one of their precious few potions on what he claimed was nothing more than a bad bruise. Neither of the mages was convinced, but the warrior was adamant; at last, they had to let it go...for the moment.

Josh volunteered to trade watches with Leslie, who seemed to tire more quickly than the others, taking the first watch and letting her sleep until the last one. She agreed, but lingered after the other two had turned in.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, noting her reluctance to lie down.

She hesitated a moment longer, then crossed to sit beside him. “I never said thank you, for earlier...for saving me and Matt.”

Josh prayed the firelight hid his blush as he replied, “Y-you don’t have to. We’re a team—take care of each other. Besides, with your magic, you’ve saved the rest of us more times than we can count.”

“Speaking of that,” the white mage answered, closing the rest of the distance between them, “your wound—it’s not just a bruise and you know it.”

Josh wanted to protest that he was fine, but knew it would do no good—since embracing her role of healer, Leslie seemed to have gained a sixth sense for diagnosing what, exactly, an injury was. “How bad is it, then?” he asked, dreading the answer but liking how close she was sitting.

“Two cracked ribs, and if you keep ignoring them, they could break and do more damage in the long run. So, will you please swallow your stubborn pride and let me heal them?”

“I just don’t want you to wear yourself out,” Josh admitted. “You’ve been so tired lately, and none of us wants a repeat of the Chaos Shrine incident. That scared m—Matt: all of us, really. And you keep pressing yourself so hard, so close to the brink of exhaustion again.”

Leslie glanced away when he mentioned the Shrine, an odd, unreadable look on her face. “I’m a healer—that’s my job,” she said at last. “I can’t really do much of anything else, except against the undead, and even that takes magical energy. If I’m going to pull my weight on this team, feeling tired is the price I’ve got to pay. And it’s not so bad, really. I may not recover as fast, but I can last longer than Matt or Zach. Well, technically Matt can stand more, but his spells take more out of him, so I can cast more.”

Josh laid a hand on her shoulder, cutting off her rant. “Look, you may be a healer, but you don’t have to be a martyr. Please, just—just take care of yourself, too?”

“You mean make sure the ogre isn’t looking at me when I go up to heal someone?” the joke caught the warrior off-guard, but after a moment, he matched her small grin.

“That’d be a good start, for sure.”

Leslie made a show of considering his words before speaking again. “I’ll agree...if you let me see to those ribs before they cause more of a problem in the long run.” Before he could say anything she held up a hand. “I’ll use the easiest spell that will still get the job done, then I’ll go to sleep, if it’ll make you feel any better. But I’m not leaving until you let me help you.”

Finally, Josh agreed, and he couldn’t deny that it felt good to have the pain in his side fade, or that there was a soothing, melodic quality to her voice when she chanted the spell...

_Keep your head on, man: you’ve got a job to do, and you have no idea how she feels...._

* * *

Midafternoon sun shone down on the four teens and the dilapidated ruin facing them alike.

“That is pretty run down,” Zach observed, unnecessarily. “Who wants to bet we’ve found Astos?”

“Could be, or it could be abandoned,” Matt pointed out. “Either way, I’d urge caution. Even if nothing attacks, that place looks like it could collapse at any moment.”

With that pleasant thought now lodged in their minds, they entered the ruined castle, confusion only increasing as they wandered from empty room to empty hall, none of which had any signs of habitation—human, elven, monster, or otherwise. They were about to give up, when they entered what they had to assume was the throne room—which was nowhere near the center, where one would expect to find it, but, rather, off to one side and easy to overlook.

Not that any of them were particularly focused on that matter, because the throne in the middle of the room was occupied by a rotund, middle-age man in a royal robe, who began yelling at them as soon as they poked their heads in the room. “I’m warning you—go and tell your master Astos that I’ll never surrender! He may have stolen my crown, killed my family, and destroyed my land, but I will fight him as long as there is breath in my body and strength in my limbs! Tell him that, you minions of darkness!”

Leslie felt a rush of sympathy for the unknown king, and was the first to step inside the room, curtseying as she did so. “Your highness, rest assured, we are not here on behalf of Astos, but in search of him—to confront him on behalf of the elven prince.”

Matt frowned, both at his sister’s trusting nature, and at an odd look that’d crossed the face of the king for the briefest moment when the prince of Elfheim had been mentioned. Something wasn’t right, that much was certain. None of the others seemed to share his misgivings, however, as Zach spoke next.

“The lady speaks true, sire. If you know where the dark elf has hidden himself, we would be glad to bring him..._greetings_ from you, as well, when we meet.”

To Matt, the light in king’s eyes was a greedy, not a hopeful, one. “Young warriors—would you indeed? He dwells in the deepest part of the Marsh Cave, two days south of here, along the coast. I have heard that he has my crown with him there, in the dark depths. If you could, bring it to me after he has been defeated. There is some small magic in it. It cannot bring back much of what I have lost, but it might be yet able to restore my castle.” The king gave the ruins around him a sorrowful look before finishing his plea. “If you aid me in this, Warriors of Light, I may be able to tell you how to wake the Elven Prince. The scroll was somewhere in my library, lost until the crown may restore this place.”

* * *

“Well, that’s obviously a trap,” Matt pointed out as soon as they were out of the ruins, which now gave him the same feeling of _wrongness_ that the king had. But instead of the chorus of agreement that he’d expected, his plain statement of fact was met with only blank stares.

“Did none of you notice he seemed a bit too eager to send us off to face this supposedly dangerous force?”

“No more than anybody else has been,” Josh pointed out.

Matt only shook his head. “That wasn’t even the most obvious clue: he called us the Warriors of Light, but we didn’t tell him that we were. _And_ how does he know about the curse on the elven Prince?”

“Word does travel fast in this world,” Leslie pointed out. “And we weren’t exactly hiding the crystals. Apparently, they’re our calling cards.”

Matt realized he should’ve expected such a reception from the more trusting warrior and white mage, so he turned to the ally he’d only seek out in times of desperation. Surely Zachary Prehill, professional cynic, had not been taken in by so flimsy a façade. “You saw it—felt it—too, right? That something was wrong?”

The red mage looked between his rival and his friend, both giving him the same questioning, pleading looks, both wanting to know what he truly thought, but also wanting him to side with them. He did his best to paste on a carefree smile and shrugged as he said, “Hey, I didn’t see anything. I’m with you Josh. So, now we blitz this March Cave place?”

Matt growled, angrily stalking away, ignoring his sister’s concerned gaze resting on his back.

* * *

He waited until they were traveling again to confront Zach, coming up behind the red mage and hissing in his ear, “You’re a damn hypocrite, Prehill.”

Zach glared at him, but Matt wasn’t about to stop. “All that talk about me not caring about other people—you pretend to, but you don’t ever speak up unless your boss does it first. You’re nothing but a coward, Prehill, content to follow orders and go with the status quo, because it’s _easier_ than thinking for yourself, and it’s _painless_ compared to actually giving a damn!”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Zach growled back, despite the fact that the other mage had torn his pretense away. “If you’re still mad because I believe my friend over you...”

“You call him a ‘friend’, but all I’ve seen you act like is his lackey!”

Zach felt like he’d been punched, but he wasn’t about to let it go without a final blow of his own. “How would you know, Meyers—you’ve not had enough friends to tell the difference!”

* * *

The Marsh Cave was wet, slimy, disgusting, and crawling with undead monsters, but between Zach’s fire and Leslie’s Dia spells, that wasn’t much of an issue. Magical exhaustion was still a concern, so the two were forbidden to use any spells unless absolutely necessary. Even though they agreed (and held to their word), it still left them using more magic than made the group comfortable.

The deeper they went, the worse the slime became—practically another enemy to fight—but still, no sign of any dark elves, king or otherwise. Zach refused to face Matt, knowing that, underneath the void, the younger boy’s face was locked in a smirk of triumph. _Damn him—he’s wrong! He’s got to be wrong about—about everything!_

At last, they came into a room that was different. A gold crown lay on the ground, surrounded by statues of twisted monsters like no others they’d yet encountered. Matt’s warning died in his throat as Josh stepped forward, seizing the crown from where it lay. As soon as the warrior’s hand closed upon it, the statues sprung to life, revealing themselves to be not stone representations, but actual monsters.

The leader released a blast from his staff that knocked Josh back. The other three readied their own staves, but Zach’s saber and Mat’s ice took the weakest two out, and the third, in surprise, missed. Matt shot the unlucky third with lightning as Josh stood and swung his axe at the leader. A lucky hit from Leslie’s hammer finished off the ‘electrified’ monster, and Josh’s battle took only a few swings longer.

“See—that wasn’t so bad!” Zach pointed out, smirking now at Matt. _Some trap._

“No, it wasn’t.” Matt agreed. His next words, however, stole the sweet feeling of victory from the red mage “So where’s Astos?”


	7. Something There

_“It’s so peculiar. Wait and see—a few day’s more—there may be something there that wasn’t there before.” (“Something There”, _Beauty and the Beast_)_

* * *

If the team was expecting a repeat of the Chaos Shrine incident—that is, a battle-free return to the castle—they were sorely disappointed. If anything, they were attacked _more_ on their two-day return trip to the run-down castle than on their original trek to the Marsh Cave. Not only that, but they were all on edge, waiting for Astos to make himself known after they invaded his territory. This left them all on edge and short-tempered with each other, and none more so than Zach...

“Heads up, Prehill!”

At the black mage’s shout, Zach turned, sword out, in time to dispatch the last wolf of the pack that’d attacked the party—the third monster attack of the hour, and it wasn’t even noon. “What the hell, Meyers?” Zach demanded as soon as he was certain that the mangy creature was dead. “I thought you said you had that one!”

Matt’s customary scowl deepened—it was kind of scary how good they’d gotten at reading expressions they couldn’t actually see, Zach mused—as he snapped back, “Well, I tried—excuse me for not being the best at close combat, and I’m almost out of magic!”

“Bullshit!” Zach spat. “You barely used any in that damn cave! It was Leslie and I who did all the hard work—you’re just looking for an excuse not to lift a damn finger!”

“Three spells,” Matt intoned in a low, dangerous voice somehow more frightening than his shouts or growls. “That’s it: that’s all I’ve got left in my reserves for if—no, _when_ we come up against Astos. You and Leslie are almost out of magic, meaning it’ll be up to me when that fight comes, and I intend to do my part—do you?”

“What sort of question is that?” The fact that they were now continuing their walk did not stop Zach from continuing the argument—especially not after the perceived insult. “I carry double weight while you use the excuse of a future battle to weasel your way out of doing anything with that pathetic excuse for a dagger!”

Matt’s eyes narrowed to tiny pinpricks of yellow light. “Some of us are better equipped to fight with our brains instead of our muscles—as much of a cliché as that is, I thought you would’ve realized the truth of it by now!”

Zach snorted, then puffed out his chest slightly. “Well, _I’m_ nothing if not proof that it’s possible to do both!”

“Will you two knock it off?” Josh finally interrupted. “If you keep that nonsense up, we’ll have every monster this side of the Aldi Sea on our tail!”

Zach gave an irritated huff, but held his tongue, turning away and missing the disappointed, hurt expression that crossed Matt’s face after his parting shot.

Not that it would’ve been easy to see, anyway...

* * *

Late the next morning, they arrived back at the ruined castle, making their way to the same throne room as before. Matt was still uneasy, and the longer they spent in those empty, collapsing halls, the more convinced he was that they were walking straight into a trap. He could only pray that he’d be able to save Leslie and himself, at least.

Leslie took the lead as the four re-entered the throne room, holding out the crown to the king who seemed to have not moved since they left. “Your majesty? We did not find Astos, but we did manage to recover your crown.”

“Wonderful,” the older man replied, seizing the gold circlet. He began to laugh, a greedy, raspy chuckle that set their frayed nerves on edge and sent Leslie scrambling back to the safety of the group. “Wonderful,” he repeated, as the only door to the room slam closed. “With the power of the Elven crown those fool wizards in the cave stole from me, combined with the crystal eye _I_ stole from Matoya, I can become the king of Elfheim!”

Matt did his best to suppress a growl, but he did shoot a look both triumphant and frustrated at Zach, settling for a silent ‘I told you so’ as the figure before them melted away, revealing a twisted, blue monster with limp, grey hair and too many teeth wearing nothing but a ragged loincloth. _Okay, I did not need to see that._

“Fools—for I am Astos, the King of the Dark Elves! As a sign of my gratitude for retrieving the crown, I will make your deaths quick and painless!”

Matt leapt back, dragging Leslie with him as he released his first spell—a stronger burst of lightning than he’d previously tried. When he blinked the spots from his vision, he was dismayed to see it’d done nothing more than singe the dark elf’s grey hair.

“Foolish boy!” Astos taunted, leaping away from the axe and sabre that the two physical fighters wielded. “Don’t you know that elemental magic like that is ineffective against another magician? You’ll have to do better than that! Try something like this!” Astos muttered something under his breath, and a cloud of poison gas rolled towards the black mage, who barely managed to dodge it. _Crap! He knows death magic and none of my spells will hurt him! What can I do?_

He froze in horror, watching as Josh and Zach barely managed to keep ahead of Astos’ attacks, unable to land a single one of their own. Matt was snapped from his paralysis when he noticed Leslie swaying slightly—nearly wiped out by the four protective spells she’d already cast. He was not going to let his baby sister collapse again if there was a single thing he could do about it!

He mustered the little bit of magical energy he had left, preparing to cast two spells in quick succession. He rattled off the words, casting the haste spell first over Josh, then over Zach. The black mage watched as their speed increased drastically, allowing them to get under Astos’s guard, land a few hits, then dodge away, unhurt. “It’s up to you guys, now,” Matt muttered, feeling his knees buckle. He just _knew_ he was going to have a massive headache when he woke up.

Leslie saw him drop, and felt a surge of adrenaline as she ran over to him. She checked for a pulse and nearly collapsed from relief herself when she found it—faint, but steady at least. “You idiot,” she muttered fondly, trying to cover her genuine worry. A shout from Josh made her look up, just in time to see the warrior roll away from another green cloud—another death spell. If Matt hadn’t sped up the fighters’ movements, they’d have been killed by Astos’ magic long ago.

“Let’s put a stop to that, then,” Leslie growled, standing up. She’d felt unable to cast any more spells only minutes before but the adrenaline rush she’d felt in her haste to help her brother however she could, coupled with worry over their two companions, lent her the energy she needed to cast the newest spell in her repertoire—Silence—on Astos, and still remain on her feet afterwards.

With the dark elf’s magic now out of the picture, the fight lasted only a few minutes longer. Finally, Josh managed a powerful axe-strike that broke through Astos’ defenses and felled the twisted wizard. Once more they’d won—survived—but how much longer would their luck hold?

* * *

Matt was pleasantly surprised when he woke to discover the absence of the migraine he knew Leslie had suffered from in the days following _her_ collapse. That is, until he discovered that _his_ bout with exhaustion apparently came with the side effect of extreme nausea. He rolled onto his side and began retching and vomiting, feeling the heat of the embarrassed blush that none of the others could see, as he felt Leslie’s hand on his back, half supporting him, and heard her gentle mutter, “It’s okay, just try to ride it out. It’ll be fine—we’re all okay. We’re outside the castle. It’s okay.”

Even after his stomach had finished emptying itself of all contents, the black mage really didn’t want to raise his head and face the other three—Josh and Zach already considered him weak and borderline useless; this incident would be nothing to them but further confirmation.

“Hey, you alright man?” Josh’s voice came from a few yards away. “That looked pretty bad—even Leslie didn’t lose consciousness. Is he okay?”

The last part was evidently aimed at his sister, as he heard Leslie reply, “I think so—or, he will be. Just needs some space and some time.”

_Bless her._ Leslie had understood his reluctance to face the others, and was covering for him. “They’re not looking Matt,” she whispered. “Now, will you please look up so that I can make sure you don’t have a concussion or something?”

“How would you tell?” he managed to croak as he raised his head at last. “Aren’t the signs things like unfocused eyes, or one too big, or something like that?”

“Trust me—I’d know,” Leslie muttered, reminding Matt about how much she’d changed since she’d embraced her role as the team’s healer—how much she seemed to be able to ‘just know’, now. “Besides—medic or not, I’m you sister: I’d know.” She stared at him for a moment, slowly steering him away from the mess he’d made, before quietly declaring. “Well, you _are_ dazed, but after what you put yourself through with those last few spells, I’m not surprised. Please don’t do that again.”

“I won’t, if you guys promise to actually listen to me when I say something’s a trap.”

He hadn’t realized that he’d spoken loudly enough for the other two to hear, until Josh responded. “Don’t worry—we will. Your instincts were good, and it was your magic that kept us alive in there. Besides, when we’ve got someone with your kind of brain on the team, it’d be waste if we don’t, you know, listen.”

Matt flushed again, but fortunately, the black void covered that for him. “And you, Prehill? No smart remarks?”

“Hey, I figured I’d let you get in your ‘I told you so’ first. You earned it, Meyers.” For once, there was no trace of sarcasm in the older boy’s tone, and Matt decided he didn’t have the energy to pursue the matter for now. Besides, there were more pressing matters at hand...

“So, for all of that—did you guys actually manage to get the key to waking the prince?”

Silence. _Of course._ “Well, you did get that crystal eye—right?” Leslie held it out in response, and it only just then crossed the black mage’s mind that someone would’ve had to have carried him out of the castle to where they now camped. It obviously hadn’t been—honestly, _couldn’t_ have been—Leslie, and he tried not think about how embarrassing the situation was and was becoming for him. “Well, then, maybe we can take that to Matoya, get on her good side, and see if she’s got any ideas—or am I the only one who got the impression that she knew more than she was letting on?”

“Honestly, all I got was the distinct flavor of crazy,” Zach admitted without a trace of confrontation in his tone. “But there might be something in that library of hers—if she’d let us take a look. That our plan, then?” Nods of assent all around, then the two groups separated again—the two football players giving the siblings some space as Leslie tried to make her brother comfortable—and get him to agree not to take his share of the watch.

“How’d you know?” he asked at last. Once again, his twin had followed his line of thought perfectly.

“You’re a lot like Mom—you know how she hates to let anyone know when she’s feeling sick, much less actually see how bad it is? You’re the same way.” After a moment, Leslie admitted in a quiet, almost frightened voice. “I miss her, Matt. Her and Dad.”

“Me, too, Les.” He didn’t say that it’d be okay—that they’d be back home soon—because, the way things were going, he wasn’t sure if that was a promise he could keep. “Me, too.”

* * *

To their immense surprise, the large room that seemed to make up most of Matoya’s dwelling place had been completely cleaned and organized by the time they returned, and the witch herself was sitting calmly behind a desk they hadn’t noticed before. As they entered, she stared vacantly in their general direction with a calm, kind smile. “Ah, you found my eye. Kindly give it here.”

Wordlessly, Josh handed the crystal orb to the old woman who placed it in the center piece of her pointed hat, then blinked, clarity and focus returning to her gaze. “Thank you so much. How may I aid you in return?”

They’d only gotten halfway into their explanation before the witch put up a hand to stop them. “You need a good Jolt Tonic for the prince, then? Third aisle over, about hallway down—top shelf. And don’t spill any of the potions beneath it unless you want to bring this whole mountain down!” Matoya yelled the last part after Zach, who’d gone after the potion. The red mage gingerly retrieved the indicated (and clearly labeled) tonic before rejoining his friends. By the time he did so, Matoya’s voice and smile were calm once more.

“With that, I believe I may call our business concluded. I expect you’ll need to stay the night before returning to your ship in the morning. Very well. Same rooms as before, just ask the brooms for anything you need!”

* * *

After the four teens left her alone once more, Matoya smiled to herself, pleased that she’d still been able to rattle them—admittedly, in a different way than before. “Some heroes...” she muttered, but more fondly than before, “...can’t even handle one old lady. Still, they did beat Astos and get my eye back. Of course, he’ll be the least of their problems, soon enough. I still don’t know what Lukahn was thinking.”

Yet, the next morning, as she sat in her study, watching them depart through her magic crystal, she didn’t stop herself from muttering, “May you have safe travels and certain paths in these dark and dangerous times, Warriors of Light.”

* * *

To say that the Elven guard regarded Matoya’s tonic dubiously would be a massive understatement.

“So, you have no idea if this will really work?”

Zach growled—they’d been over this three times already! “Matoya said it would, and our captain assures us that she’s known for her skills with brews and potions from Cornelia to Pravoka!”

“Exactly,” the guard retorted, “_human_ country. No offense, but she might not be up to Elven standards. Couldn’t you have made Astos tell you the cure?”

“We were a little busy trying to kill each other,” Matt responded, physically recovered now from his collapse, but still suffering from a short fuse. “Look—we kill your country’s greatest enemy and do our best to find a cure for your prince for no other reason than because you asked us to. Can’t you give us a little credit and just shut up and take the tonic!”

The guard still didn’t seem inclined to listen, but the commotion finally drew the attention of the chancellor and one of the healers attending to the Prince. The latter—an ancient Elven woman—focused on the vial in Zach’s grip. “Is that....?” she whispered, before lunging forward with surprising energy for someone who looked so old and seizing the vial, holding it closer for a better look. “It is! A Jolt Tonic—one of Matoya’s brew, and just the thing we need! I’ll give it to the Prince right away!” At a nod from the chancellor, the four heroes followed the healer, Zach unable to resist a triumphant smirk at the guards as they filed past.

Never underestimate the speed of an elf—even when she looks like she’s more than two hundred years old—when she wants to get somewhere and do something. By the time the chancellor and the four teens caught up the healer, the prince was already sitting up, blinking a bit in confusion and muttering something about nightmares and dreams. Suddenly, his gaze landed on the four warriors facing him, and the crystals they’d finally taken to wearing openly, and seemed to understand everything in a moment.

_Seriously,_ Zach wondered, _how do people do that in this world?_

“You’re the Warriors of Light, aren’t you?” The Prince’s voice was a little hoarse, but after five years of sleep-induced silence, it was hardly surprising. “The time of the prophecy has come then, and I will do my part. Here: here is the Mystic Key. There are caches of supplies in Cornelia, the Northern Shrine, this castle, Mount Duregar, and even in the Marsh Cave. The supplies there will help you in your journey.”

“There wouldn’t happen to be any Nitro Powder in one of those caches—would there?” Josh asked, remembering their original reason for coming to Elfheim.

The Prince nodded. “In Cornelia, if memory serves me correctly. But why would you require such explosives?”

The chancellor suddenly looked like _he_ was tired enough for a five-year nap as realization began to sink in. “Your majesty,” he said at last, “there may be a few—_quite_ a few—things you need to be filled in on.”

* * *

It took almost two weeks of sailing, walking, searching, and even fighting to get to every cache that the Elf Prince had told them about, but the gil, equipment, and supplies they ended up with made it worthwhile—even the return trip to the Marsh Cave. But at last, they were ready for the final cache—Mount Duregar—and ready to continue with their journey.

* * *

In Josh’s private opinion, the dwarf in charge of unblocking the canal—Nerrick—was _too_ excited by the explosives, but at least he did his job, clearing the path for them to cross into open waters—almost a month after they first set sail from Pravoka.

Still, they were now that much closer to Crescent Lake and the secrets of getting home. The warrior stood on deck, staring across the waves at nothing in particular, a hand on the hilt of his new sword. He still felt uncomfortable about taking it—after all, their journey was almost done, but it seemed that everyone they met felt that the journey was just beginning, nowhere near its end.

_I just have to keep believing they’re wrong,_ the blonde young man thought to himself, thinking of his family—mom, dad, and a younger brother and sister. He didn’t talk about them a lot, and honestly, he used to try to avoid the ‘munchkins’ as much as possible, considering them pests, but Josh would now give anything to be back at home with them.

He was so lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the other three join him on deck, and he almost missed the flare that went up from the strip of land they could barely see on the northern horizon.

“What was _that?_” Zach asked, rattling his friend from pensive thoughts.

It was Gunther, however, who had the answer. “That was a distress signal—from the looks of it, trouble be brewin’ in Melmond. You hero-types want to stop and see if you can sort it out, or do we keep sailing on to Crescent Lake?”

Josh froze—for days, he’d been looking forward to finally, _finally_ getting back to his family, but the look on Leslie’s face reminded him of when she’d convinced Gunther that it was their job to help the elves because it was their job to help _everybody_.

_Wait—does she really believe that? I thought she was just convincing Gunther to give us time to do what we needed to in order to keep going. This isn’t an obstacle—it’s a rabbit trail! _“Guys,” he said at last, trying not to meet the white mage’s gaze, “We can’t do this—we need to go home! The people here need to learn to solve their own problems. Any of them could’ve done the stuff we’ve done, they just didn’t try because they found us to do it for them!”

“But we were brought here for a reason, right?” Leslie pointed out.

Josh felt Zach’s eyes on him, and breathed an internal sigh of relief when the red mage backed him yet again. “Who’s to say we haven’t already done enough—Cornelia, Pravoka, the Elves—even Matoya! All we’ve done is help people. Maybe that was why.”

“You know you don’t really believe that, Prehill,” Matt pointed out. “The least we can do is see what’s wrong.”

“Look, what if we go see what Lukahn has to say? If he says we’re not done yet, we can come back here and help,” Josh offered, privately hoping the mysterious Lukahn would send them home before the issue even came up.

Leslie still looked troubled. “But what if it’s too late to help by that point—we’re still over two weeks from Crescent Lake, according to Gunther!”

_All the more reason to start heading there now! _Josh thought, but couldn’t bring himself to say.

Zach pressed on. “Look—if you’re so worried about these poor people in... wherever that place is, then why don’t you and your brother stop off there and hold down the fort until Josh and I and go and check in with Lukahn? Then everybody’s happy!”

Actually, they were far from it, with tensions and anger running high, but even with them ready to launch into a massive argument, Josh realized that, if they hadn’t been able to split up when they first arrived, there was no way they could, now. “Fine,” he spat. “Let’s go see what’s wrong. If it’s something they could take care of on their own, then they _are_ on their own.”

The hurt look on Leslie’s face made him flinch internally, but at the moment, he was too upset and too busy trying to figure out what it was that kept them together when the four of them were too different to run in the same circles at school.

_Something’s changed...but what?_


	8. Down below the Surface

_“Through pride we are ever deceiving ourselves. But deep down below the surface of the average conscience a still, small voice says to us, something is out of tune.” (Carl Jung)_

* * *

As soon as they saw how bad things really were in Melmond, Josh knew they were stuck: the buildings were run down, the ground itself was festering, and the town people were either completely devoid of hope or else greedy money-grubbers.

_Seriously—how is it that we’ve spent nearly all the gil from our little ‘treasure hunt’ and we almost didn’t have enough for new equipment? I get the economy needs a boost, but this is just unreasonable..._

The four had split up, in part so that they could each finish the shopping for what they need, in part to spread out and get all the information they could from the townspeople, but mostly to get a break from each other and give the team-wide tension some time to diffuse. They reconvened in the inn that night—a very _expensive_ inn, Josh noted—and compared notes.

“A vampire—really?”

Josh looked over at Zach. “Well, we did just get finished fighting a dark elf with a spell that could kill instantly—not to mention all the ogres and goblins we’ve been fighting pretty much since we woke up here—what’s so surprising about a vampire, all things considered?”

“Not what I meant,” Zach insisted. “I’m not surprised at what it _is_, I’m just thinking: if they know what the problem is and where the monster lives, why not go there and kill it? Or ambush him when he raids the town again? I mean, all it’ll take is a few good blasts with Fire and Dia spells—and they’ve got some nice ones here, let me tell you—or a wooden stake to the heart. Why us?”

“I know why,” Leslie put in. She’d been quiet since their fight on the ship, and Josh felt bad for that, but at least she was still talking to the rest of them. “Didn’t you see it? There aren’t any fighters left in this village—they’ve tried to fight him off and paid the highest price possible for it. Listening to the stories—there’s not a family here who hasn’t lost somebody to that monster. Even if we kill him and stop him from stealing the power of the earth, it’ll be extremely difficult for them to build the town back. But they only want us to kill the vampire—they want to do the rest of it themselves.”

Josh glanced over to the only member of their group who’d remained silent since giving his report, but Matt still said nothing. Not that he needed to speak—it was clear from his posture that he was siding with his sister—not a huge surprise there. The warrior looked to his friend, but Zach only gave a small shrug that Josh knew to mean ‘I’ll go with what you say.’ Most days, he appreciated his friend’s support, but others, he just wished Zach would actually voice an opinion.

“Zach’s right about how easy it will be,” Leslie pointed out quietly. “This won’t be too long a delay.” The warrior hesitated another moment, and the white mage finally raised her head to face him, hazel eyes full of pleading. “Josh?” she asked at last, and he did his best to keep from grimacing as he spoke at last.

“Fine—let’s go kill a vampire.”

* * *

The vampire’s cave was about a day’s journey away, so they set out early the next morning, reached the cave by nightfall, and camped another night before finally diving in.

“So—we have four choices here. Which way do we go?” Zach asked.

Matt scowled at each of the four in turn before replying, “Impossible to tell. I guess we have to try them one at a time until we find the one that leads to Mr. Dracula. Any objections to starting with the one straight ahead?”

“No,” Josh summed up after glancing at the others. “Should be easy to remember which one we started with, that way.”

With no further discussion, they started out—and regretted it shortly after turning the first corner. As soon as they did, they found themselves facing a hoard of gigantic, muscular, green-skinned humanoids that would send even an ogre chieftain running home in terror. The four turned to go back the way they’d come, only to find that they were now surrounded by more of the same.

Josh and Zach drew their swords, moving into position to shield the mages as best they could, while the Meyers twins began prepping spells.

Every fight was a trial—Zach soon discovering that his new fire spell did much more damage than his sword—and it was all Leslie could do to keep them on their feet and moving forward. When they finally stumbled free of the death trap what felt like hours later, there was no discussion of trying the next passage—as one, they stumbled back to the surface and began to set up camp. There would be no more trying that day.

The silence over the camp lasted most of the evening, punctuated by occasional comments, the first of which came from Zach as he gave an exhausted glare at his rival. “Best student in geography, eh? That is the _last_ time we let you give the directions!”

* * *

The next day’s attempt went better. Avoiding the passage from before like the plague, it only took them a few more tries to find the stairs to the next level down—and along the way, the managed to find some money and a potion or two, although they had no idea how those got there....

If the first level had been run by giants, the second was the domain of the snakes—_poisonous_ snakes. Leslie shuddered each time they came across one of the scaly beasts, but it was to her credit that she kept from shrieking as each encounter began. Like her mother, she _hated_ snakes with a passion that rivaled Indiana Jones’.

As if the fact that they were snakes wasn’t bad enough, just about every brief skirmish ended with one or more of the fighters suffering from the effects of snake venom. The first time it happened, Leslie began to mutter the anti-venom spell she’d learned, only to be stopped by her brother.

“Save you energy for the vampire,” he told her, revealing a pack full to the brim with healing potions and poison antidotes. “I stocked up in the town so you and Prehill can keep your magic in reserve for the bloodsucker himself.”

“I noticed you haven’t been using much magic yourself,” she observed as he passed the vial over to Josh, who applied it to his wound and paused, waiting for it to take effect.

Matt shrugged. “I figure it’ll be up to me, and maybe Josh, to cover our retreat after we take out the vampire, depending on how many spells you and Prehill have to cast, and I don’t want a repeat of last time.”

Leslie laughed quietly, keeping a medic’s cautious eye as Josh stood, testing his leg, which seemed fine now. “Ever the strategist,” she muttered, glad that some things never changed.

* * *

By the time they found their way down to the third level, they’d found several more chests of gil, a tent, a basic shield, and a new sword for Zach. To the party’s immense relief, there didn’t seem to be nearly as many giants or snakes on the third level. As bad as the trolls and minotaurs were, they weren’t poisonous, and they weren’t as hard to beat as the giants had been.

Actually, Josh was pretty excited by the first minotaur they encountered. He knew the others probably thought he was crazy, given that he’d been grinning throughout the whole fight, but he couldn’t help it. “Hey, I just like Greek mythology, okay?”

To his surprise, Leslie’s expression shifted from confusion to understanding. “Me, too,” she admitted quietly.

They went a few steps forward, when the white mage suddenly stopped, eyes wide.

“Leslie?” Josh asked, concerned.

“Greek Mythology—four—earth,” she muttered quietly, causing her brother to take a step towards her, stance betraying his concern.

It was Josh who was able to piece together what had occurred to the white mage from her muttered ramblings. “In Greek philosophy, they thought that the earth—everything, really—was composed of four elements: fire, water, wind, and earth. The idea persisted well into the middle ages, if I’m remembering right.”

Zach blinked, still confused. “Interesting, but what does this have to do with our attempt to be Buffy impersonators?”

“Maybe nothing,” Josh admitted, “or maybe everything. There’s four of us, four crystals—that was a pretty important number when it came to ideas like the elements—”

“Four humors,” Leslie put in, nodding.

“Right—the four humors—stuff like that. I guess what we’re trying to say...I mean, the people of Melmond told us this vampire is affecting the earth directly. Now, this could be an isolated thing, or it could be the first of...well, of a set of four.”

There was silence as they looked from face to face, also glancing down at the crystal shards around their necks, none of them wanting the theory to be right, but none of them able to offer any proof to refute it. Eventually, they realized that they couldn’t worry about that then—all they could do was press on and deal with the crisis at hand.

* * *

Eventually, after finding a bit more money and a few potions, they found themselves face-to-face with the pale-skinned, read-haired vampire himself, wrapped in a flowing blue cloak. “Another meal from Melmond?” he sneered, then noticed the drawn weapons. “Ah—even better. Dinner and a show! Fools: mere mortals cannot kill the undying!”

With that taunt, he leapt at them, claws outstretched and fangs bared, only to collide head-on with a giant fireball, courtesy of Zach’s newest magical acquisition. The red mage smirked, snapping back, “Maybe ‘kill’ is the wrong word, then. How about ‘barbeque’ or ‘torch’?”

The vampire lashed out from where he was trapped by roaring flames, managing to score several deep slashes down the red mage’s arm, but leaving him completely open to Leslie’s newest, most powerful Dia spell just as she cast it.

With an inhuman shriek, what remained of the vampire crumbled into dust, and the flames sputtered out from lack of fuel. Leslie turned to see if she could help Zach’s arm, but saw her brother pass the last of their potions to the taller boy.

The black mage caught his sister’s eye and shrugged. “Well, that didn’t take nearly so much out of you guys as I thought. The two of you should be able to take care of any necessary healings on the way out, especially since we marked the way we came. No more wrong turns.”

“Hey guys, look at this!” They turned to see Josh open yet another chest, pulling out a star-shaped ruby, brighter and bigger than any Leslie had seen before.

“Spoils of war,” Zach grunted, just as the potion took effect. “Now can we _please_ get out of here?”

“Sure,” Matt replied, the smirk no one could see audible in his voice. “Just a word of advice, Prehill? Don’t forget to dodge in your rush to taunt.”

“Hilarious.”

* * *

Their feelings of satisfaction and triumph faded shortly after their return to Melmond. Instead of beginning to recover—or, at the very least, halting its steady decline—the earth actually had begun to decay _faster_ after the vampire had been killed. No one in Melmond seemed to have an explanation for the weary, confused, and frustrated heroes; the only helpful comment came from a young boy who’d taken to following Josh around the town.

“There’s a really old man in a cave past the home of the rock giant. He spent time with the Sage Lukahn—maybe he knows something!”

The lad’s friends were less optimistic. “No one’s seen him in forever—the giant probably ate him!”

“He wouldn’t!” the boy protested loudly. “He’s a rock giant—he only eats rocks, and the old man said he kept giving the giant rubies, so the giant actually kind of likes him!”

Leslie stepped in between the scowling youngsters, mustering a calm smile as she interrupted the blossoming argument. “It’s alright Nathan, Rellan. We’ll go and see for ourselves; maybe the old man just got busy. Which was is it to the giant’s cave?”

The boys pointed in unison, but Rellan, the pessimist, couldn’t resist pointing out: “The giant won’t let anybody pass unless they give him a ruby!”

Josh personally felt like groaning as the delay increased in length, but he managed a smile for the kids as he patted his pack. “Then I guess it’s a good thing that we have a ruby.”

* * *

It was another day’s journey to the giant’s cave, which did nothing to improve Josh’s rapidly souring mood. _All I want to do is get home to my family. I don’t care what happens to these people—it’s no business of mine._ But even as the thought crossed his mind, he pictured young Nathan, and the trust and hope the young boy regarded the four of them—and Josh in particular—with. _“When I grow up,”_ he’d said, _“I wanna be just like you guys—going around and helping people! Do you think I’ll be strong enough to be a warrior like you?”_

It reminded Josh of his own younger brother when he was that age, and the hero worship he’d had for Josh at that time. _Stop thinking like that! Do you want to feel guilty about doing the best thing for your family?_

His internal wrestling was temporarily halted as they arrived in the giant’s cave. The living statue scowled at them (though, looking at how immobile the stone was, even on his face, it was hard to imagine he could do much else). “No one passes.”

“Not even if we have a ruby for you?” Leslie asked sweetly as the warrior drew out the mentioned treat.

“You have ruby?” The giant blinked, then nodded once, the scowl never altering. “You may pass. Give me ruby!”

They did, and watched as the living statue crammed the whole thing in his mouth, devouring it in a few seconds for loud crunching. “Nothing tastes better than Star Rubies!” he declared, before lumbering a few steps away and allowing the team to continue their trek.

“I’d hate to be that guy’s dentist,” Zach muttered as they emerged into daylight once more.

* * *

His quip didn’t really earn him the laughs he was expecting, but Zach didn’t really let that bother him—no one really seemed to find him funny anymore, not even Josh, but he chalked it up to the stress of the situation. _Seriously, these guys need to lighten up: just roll with things...or at the very least, pretend to._

Fortunately, less than an hour’s steady walk from the giant’s cave was another mountain dwelling, and right outside lounged an old man who watched them approach with a mildly interested expression, but no sense of surprise. 

“Took you long enough,” the old man said when they walked up. “You’re the Warriors of Light, if those be the crystals I think they are, and that means you’re the ones who killed the vampire. I’m Sage Sadda, by the way—a friend of Lukahn’s. Come on in, I’ve got a pot of tea on, and some answers you’ll be wanting.”

The other three exchanged confused glances, but Zach had long since given up on being surprised by the highly perceptive people in this strange world—just one of the quirks of the place, he supposed. They followed Sadda into the cave, and took up seats around the rough wooden table in the part of his home that served as his kitchen. The hermit poured five cups of tea and passed them out before taking his seat.

No one seemed particularly inclined to start off the conversation, so Zach decided it was up to him—seriously, why did no one else ever take the initiative in these situations? “Okay, so you know that we killed the vampire. We were told that would help things get better around here. Is there a particular reason that we seem to have done nothing but make it worse?”

“Because, when you killed the vampire, you angered his master, who has subsequently increased his attack on the earth itself,” Sadda answered matter-of-factly. “Lich sees your foray into his domain as a declaration of war. Though he cannot leave the Cavern of the Earth to attack you directly, he will do what he can to force you to take the fight to him.”

Josh frowned. “Um, should we know who this Lich is?”

“Lukahn did not tell you? He was supposed to meet you in Cornelia and explain everything.” Sadda frowned at the blank expressions facing him. “You mean that old fool is still in Crescent Lake? Figures: his own prophecy, and he forgets to meet the very heroes he predicted would come!”

“I don’t suppose you could explain, Sage Sadda,” Leslie began, only to be cut off.

“I’ll give you the brief version—you don’t have much time now that Lich’s aware of your presence. You’ll have to go and ask Lukahn for the details.” Sadda took a moment to gather his thoughts, then spoke rapidly. “There are four crystals scattered around the world, each tied to one of the four elements. Each of the crystals you bear is tied to one of those. Lich is what is known as a fiend—the highest rank of monster, hardest to kill, absolutely ancient. He’s feeding off the energy of the Earth Crystal, and that’s what’s causing the earth to decay. You not only have to kill him, but you have to use your crystal to relight the Earth Crystal. Got it?”

Zach blinked. “In theory,” he said at last. “We just have a few more questions. First: how do we find this Lich? Second: how do we kill him? Finally: how on earth are we to relight the crystal?”

Sadda locked eyes with the young man. “You didn’t look beyond the vampire’s lair, did you? The Cavern goes on, down two more levels to where Lich is. Take the staff by the entrance: it’ll destroy the barrier that prevents anyone from getting that far. As for relighting the crystal, that’ll be up to whichever of you has the yellow shard...looks like that’s you, lad,” he added, with a nod to Josh.

They waited another moment, but that only seemed to annoy Sadda, who stood. “That’s all I’ll tell you. You’ve got to do some of the brain work yourselves, you lazy louts!”

Taking the hint, the four teens stood, thanked their host, and turned to leave. Zach hesitated at the entrance, however, when he noticed Sadda pull Josh to the side. Straining his ears, Zach managed to catch the hermit’s whispered words.

“A word of advice, lad—each crystal responds to a particular trait. They’re how the shards connect to their bearers, honestly. It’ll be your leadership that relights the Earth Crystal.”

Zach hurried on, hoping Josh hadn’t noticed he was in hearing range. _Josh’s leadership? That’s it: we’re doomed._

* * *

They made their way back to the inn in Melmond before they dared touch on the topic of what Sadda had revealed.

“If this Lich is worse than the vampire, we can’t leave without defeating him,” Leslie pointed out, still worried about another outburst from Josh—she hadn’t seen him so angry before, and that part of him seemed to lurk much closer to the surface in the past few weeks.

Josh sighed, but didn’t seem inclined to lash out—yet. “I know. I got that impression, too. I’m just worried...Sadda said there were four crystals. Each of us has a shard that’s connected to one of them. What if...what if we’re stuck here until we find the other three, as well?”

She’d been worried about that, too. But, if this was what it took to get home, wouldn’t it be better to just get it over with?

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, buddy,” Zach broke in. “After all, we might not even get this first one lit. I heard what Sadda told you—are you just planning to ignore it and hope he’s wrong?”

Leslie glanced at her brother, who she could tell was as surprised as she felt, while Josh just looked furious. Zach then went on to quote the hermit’s parting words to the warrior before turning back to his friend. “Man, since you were made captain of the team, you’ve been talking about how you’re not a leader.”

“Because I’m not!” Josh shouted. “I am not, nor do I want to be!” He took a deep breath, as if trying to force that rage back down. In a much calmer tone, he continued, “Look, if Lich is the one blocking the crystal’s power, and we kill him, then there will be nothing blocking the power, and the earth will recover. It’s simple logic—right?”

Matt snorted derisively. “Perhaps, but I’ll tell you what isn’t: ignoring one part of a message you don’t like while accepting everything else. Either Sadda’s crazy and everything he said is wrong, or he’s wise and knows what he’s talking about, including that last bit. Or he’s just straight up bullshitting us. Personally, he didn’t strike me as a madman or a liar. Ergo, _logic_ dictates that we heed his words—_all_ of them.”

“Shut up, Meyers!” Josh shouted, on his feet now. “I _know_ he’s wrong, because he said it would be a quality we already possess that ties us to the shards, and I’m not a leader.”

Matt stood now, too, refusing to back down. “Have you ever considered that you _could_ be if you weren’t such a damn coward and actually took on some responsibility?”

Zach rocketed to his feet now, turning on the other mage. “Who are you calling a coward, Meyers? You don’t know him at all!”

“Well, if he’s not a coward, then he’s lazy—haven’t you noticed the way he shirks all responsibility? Hell, _you’ve_ had to pick up most of the slack. Are you going to tell me that you really don’t think he needs to step up already?”

Leslie wanted to put her hands over her ears, and she was actually tempted to use her silence spell to stop the fight in its track. It was bad enough when the tension was under the surface, or when Zach and Matt snipped at each other, but these full-on fights were the worst, and Leslie just wanted them to stop already!

She seemed to get her wish, as Josh delivered his own parting shot before storming out of the inn: “Neither of you know what you’re talking about, so why don’t you do us all a favor and shut up! I don’t know why I even stayed with you guys!”

After the warrior stormed out, Leslie jumped in before the two remaining combatants could rip into each other. “Look, I’ll go after him, see if I can calm him down. But he was right about one thing: neither of you are making this better, so just go to bed or something.”

As she followed Josh, part of her wondered where she found the courage to tell them off like that. However, she didn’t have time to dwell on that—she had to try to be a different kind of healer, now.


	9. Hiding in the Dark

_“It's hiding in the dark; its teeth are razor sharp; there's no escape for me: it wants my soul, it wants my heart! No one can hear me scream. Maybe it's just a dream, or maybe it's inside of me—stop this monster!” (Skillet, _Monster_)_

* * *

It didn’t take Leslie nearly as long to find Josh as she feared it would. She managed to guess right on her first try: he’d gone up to the roof of the inn, and was sitting near the edge, probably trying very hard not to sulk. She really wasn’t sure how she planned to go about this, but figured the best thing to do was approach it like a normal healing: trust her instincts.

Trying not to show how uncomfortable she was with heights, Leslie slowly approached the blond young man, sitting beside him with a small smile. “Little clichéd, isn’t it?”

“I guess,” Josh admitted. “I just figured no one would follow after I embarrassed myself like that.”

“Maybe I tend to be a bit clichéd myself,” Leslie admitted, “but I had to at least try. You know they’re both wrong, right? You’ve been the strongest and bravest of the four of us since we got here, and you do most of the work in most battles, even though you let the rest of us take the credit.”

Josh shrugged uncomfortably. “That’s being a good teammate, not a good leader. I just know what I can do to help the rest of you, so I do it.”

“A leader isn’t someone who boasts or orders, but someone who inspires and cares for others—and that’s what you’ve been doing,” Leslie pointed out.

Josh still wouldn’t face her. “That’s only part of what a leader does. I don’t mind that part it’s just...”

Leslie reached out, putting her hand on his arm. “Just what?” she prompted at last.

“When things go right, a leader gives credit to others—I don’t have a problem with that. But if something goes wrong and someone gets hurt, that’s on the leader, especially since he probably made the call that put them in that situation.” Josh shook his head fervently. “If something happened to any of you—if it was my fault—I couldn’t live with that. Your brother hit it in one—I’m a coward.”

“Never say that. Never think that,” Leslie insisted, surprising even herself. “I understand what you mean: that’s the reason I keep pushing myself beyond what you guys think is wise. Truth is: we’ve all got to push ourselves that hard to keep each other alive. What we need a leader to do isn’t necessarily to make all the decisions and give orders, but to keep us from taking each other’s heads off every time we have a minor disagreement. Keep us in line and protect us from ourselves, and we’ll keep protecting each other in battle.”

“I just don’t know if I trust myself even that much,” Josh admitted after a bit.

Leslie smiled at him, mustering the courage to reach over and squeeze his hand, whispering, “Then you’re the only one—because _we_ do.”

* * *

Fortunately, by the time the two of them made their way back inside, Zach and Matt had turned in, postponing the aftermath of the argument until the next morning. Even then, when the four set out early the next morning, the little talk there was pertained to strategy and recalling the route through the earth cavern, with no mention of night before or the challenge that the crystal presented.

Not that all was automatically better—the tension that had spilled over into such vitriol was clearly just below the surface, combining with nerves for the coming battle and generally making all uncomfortable, and Josh seemed to find it difficult to face the others for more than a few seconds at a time.

Leslie glanced from face to face, feeling it was somehow up to her to intervene, but the confidence she’d acted with the night before had vanished in the morning light, leaving her too uncertain to speak or act.

* * *

Now that they knew the way to go (and knew to avoid the ‘Hall of Gigas’ as they’d dubbed it, after learning the name of the giants they’d encountered) the first level of the cavern only took a few minutes for them to get through. The second level, however, took them much longer just by its nature: the correct path was long and winding, and thick with monsters. Then, of course, there was the most prominent difficulty:

“It’s not bad enough that there are snakes down here bigger around than my arm,” Zach grumbled after an early encounter, grimacing in pain, “but they just _have_ to be poisonous, too. Hey, Meyers—can you pass me one of those antidotes?”

“I’m out—the last run through here wiped out my stock, and we didn’t exactly take time to restock our store either last night or this morning,” the black mage spat back, though there was a trace of shame in his tone.

Zach stared at his rival in outraged disbelief. “Are you _kidding_ me, Meyers? You, Mr. ‘I’ve-got-a-winning-strategy-I’m-going-to-implement-without-telling-anyone, forgot to stock up?” His rant was cut short by a groan of pain as he grabbed his left arm, where he’d been bitten.

Leslie steeped in between the two boys, putting a hand near Zach’s wound and muttering a few words under her breath. The bite mark remained, but the greenish tinge faded. Leslie ignored her brother’s glare, saying only, “The anti-venom spell is very simple, and it doesn’t take a lot of energy. I should be able to get us through this level without using too much energy.”

“And I can help out with the healings, stretch out your energy so none of us is too overworked,” Zach offered, clearly more inclined to be friendly to the white mage than her to her twin.

With that settled—to no one’s pleasure, admittedly—they continued on, trying to move as swiftly though the poisonous death-trap as possible. The hope was to minimize the amount of magical energy the white and red mages were expending, but even with their best efforts, Leslie and Zach ended up casting more spells than anybody was comfortable with by the time they made it through.

* * *

Following Sadda’s advice, they passed beyond the vampire’s lair, found the tablet he’d mentioned, and shattered it using the staff they’d been given (which subsequently shattered, itself).

“Can’t find any decent second-hand magic items, eh?” Zach tried to joke, but the quip fell flat, with Matt’s unamused glare the only acknowledgment it received. “Tough crowd,” Zach grumbled as they made their way deeper into the heart of the earth.

The scent of decay was much clearer on the next level down, and most of the creatures now attacking them were of the undead variety, and as much as Josh and Matt tried to help out, most of the work fell on Leslie and Zach, who did their best to use the smallest spell possible to still get the job done.

Leslie noticed her twin grumbling and glowering more than normal, so quietly dropped back next to him, whispering, “It wasn’t Zach’s fault, you know—we all dropped the ball when it came to replenishing our supplies. Besides, it’s not like potions or antidotes would be much use against skeletons, zombies, ghosts and the like.”

“Maybe so,” Matt admitted, “but if we’d had them earlier, you wouldn’t be as tired now. How’re we going to defeat this fiend and get out of here if you’re almost ready to collapse before we face the big bad himself?”

Leslie didn’t have an answer for her brother, nor did Josh when Zach asked him a similar question: “I mean, I’ve got my sword and all, but if we get too injured, I don’t know if Leslie or I are going to have the juice to help. What’ll we do?”

Josh could only shrug, as a cold serpent of dread began coiling in his stomach. “I don’t know, Zach—I honestly don’t know. But we’re in too deep now to turn back. Besides, who knows what Lich’ll start doing if we don’t take him out, now.”

“I really hate it when you’ve got a point—you know that, right?”

* * *

They eventually found their way to the darkest, deepest part of the cave. The room seemed empty enough at first, a clear path straight to a type of altar, topped off by a larger version of the darkened yellow crystal shard around Josh’s neck, but the atmosphere of the room was one of foreboding and danger, so none of the young heroes dared sheath their weapons.

They only got two steps into the room before a portal of pure darkness opened before them, revealing a massive, purple-cloaked, skeletal figure that emanated power and malice. The hulking fiend—for it couldn’t be anybody but Lich—fixed them with eyeless sockets, and a voice colder than ice and harsher than gravel issued from a throat that had long since rotted away. “Who dares to tread in the domain of Lich? I am no mere vampire—I am King of the Undead, Fiend of the Earth, Bane of Life, Destroyer of Light—”

“Inventor of Pretentious Titles?” Zach offered in a mock-helpful tone. The grin that Lich couldn’t change seemed more frozen than before, then the whole rotting mass began to vibrate with rage.

“I know not who or what you are—but welcome to your grave! I will slay you here, today—then raise your corpses to do my bidding daily, and kill you again every evening! You have sealed your fate by coming here, fools: prepare for an eternity of agony!”

Matt growled under his breath, “For once, Prehill, I’m with you—this blowhard is getting annoying. Shall we put an end to the boasting phase?”

Josh and Zach charged in unison as the Meyers twins cast their support spells—raising defense, evasion, attack, and speed—but Lich barely seemed effected by their blows—whatever pieces they managed to hack off popped right back into place, seized and held by the rotting remains of flesh.

“That is _so_ wrong,” Zach observed after three of Lich’s ribs and part of his pelvis were recovered in such a fashion.

Josh grunted as a skeletal fist caught him in the chest, knocking him back and winding him. “Not—working!” he managed. “Try fire or something—hurry!”

Zach grimaced. He didn’t have enough ‘juice’ left for his strongest flame spell, but he could probably manage the simpler version he’d picked up in Elfheim. He took a deep breath, shouting the words out in hopes that increased volume would somehow boost the energy of the fire. Unfortunately, it didn’t, but Lich didn’t seem to be able to recover from the effect of the flames the way he could from a sword.

The King of the Undead roared in pain, catching Zach across the back with a flailing blow that knocked the lanky boy flat and opened up three deep, parallel gashes on his back. Zach tried to force himself to move, knowing that a follow-up blow could be fatal, when he heard Leslie shouting from the other side of the room, where she and Matt had taken up positions. “Still weak to fire, are you? Let’s see how you like the taste of Holy magic!”

The red mage could practically feel the huge monster shift focus to the white-clad girl, who’d begun chanting the words for the spell she’d mentioned. Zach and Josh struggled back to their feet, desperate to keep the decaying mess away from Leslie until she could finish the spell and hopefully end the battle. Josh was too far away, however, and it seemed that another of Lich’s strike had injured, if not broken, the warrior’s leg.

That meant it was up to Zach. Hissing in pain as his back all but shrieked in agony, the red mage mustered up the speed he was known for on the football field and charged the gigantic skeleton. He didn’t bother with his sword, knowing it would do little good. He just needed to buy Leslie some time, and a good, old-fashioned tackle should be good enough for that.

It certainly caught Lich off-guard, actually driving the Fiend of the Earth to the ground and causing some of his bones to splinter and shatter (they were fixed a second later, but still—it was impressive for a moment). Unfortunately, one of the broken ribs was driven into Zach’s side by the impact, and the red mage almost blacked out from pain. He knew he’d have no energy left to dodge—if Leslie’s spell didn’t finish off the Bane of Life, he was as good as dead.

_Of course, I might be dead, anyway. I don’t know how bad that wound is._ Zach realized that was an unusual thought to cross his mind at such a time, but he chalked it up to partial delirium due to pain and blood loss.

The white mage finished her spell a heartbeat later, and what remained of Lich crumbled into dust around Zach, revealing the red mage curled almost into the fetal position, hand clasped to his side. He looked up to see the concerned face of Leslie as she ran to him—already muttering a healing spell, unless he missed his guess—and was he mistaken, or did Matt, right behind his sister, actually seem to be worried?

The older boy lost consciousness before he could make up his mind on that question.

* * *

Josh felt his heart hammering as he watched Leslie tend to the limp form of his best friend, using what little magic she had left to try to stem the flow of blood from his back and side. He wanted to do something to help, but of course, there really wasn’t anything he could do.

This—_this—_was exactly the kind of situation he’d told Leslie about the night before, but up until now, it’d been little more than a fear in the back of his mind. Sure, both Meyers twins had suffered from magical exhaustion before, but Leslie had never lost consciousness, and Matt had bounced back rather quickly, bouts with nausea notwithstanding. This was the closest one of them had come to dying, and it wasn’t guaranteed that Zach would wake up, much less recover.

“If I can get him stable and we get him back to Melmond,” Leslie spoke as she switched from spells to more conventional medicinal attempts—poultices, bandages, etc., from what little they had in their stock—never looking up at the warrior she was clearly addressing, “The owner of the white magic shop should be able to finish up the healing.”

Matt was not as optimistic as his sister, however. “That may be easier said than done. She’s managed to stop most of the bleeding, but too much movement will probably open the wounds again. No to mention, we won’t have any magic or medicine left for any unpleasant encounters we’ll face on the way out.”

Josh wanted to growl at the black mage, but the knowledge that this was at least partially his own fault—after all, he’d caused the uproar that’d distracted the black mage from stocking up on medicine—kept his voice civil as he asked, “Well, do you have any suggestions, then?”

“Perhaps,” the younger boy admitted, “but it probably isn’t a good one. Over there—behind the altar—those glyphs on the floor are very similar to the ones on the teleport scroll I looked at in the store in Melmond. It was beyond me at the time, but the owner told me it can transport up to four people out of deep caves and the like. Once we’re outside, we can probably make a makeshift stretcher or something, and use that to keep him still on the return trip to Melmond.”

For the first time since he’d seen the bad shape his friend was in, Josh felt a little hopeful. “Sounds like a great plan—why didn’t you think it was a good idea?”

The glowing yellow orbs that were the black mage’s eyes didn’t flicker or falter as he held Josh’s gaze. “I have no idea how jarring the transport will be, or were those glyphs get their energy from. It might get us out of here free and clear, or it might hurt him worse, even...even kill him.”

Josh’s heart sunk, and it had nothing to do with the younger fighters looking at him with cautious expectation. The pressure he felt wasn’t from them, but from himself. It was his choice to make—he was Zach’s friend, and responsible for getting him into this mess, and now his friend’s life was almost literally in his hands. As soon as he accepted that fact, though, the weight of guilt he’d been struggling under lessened significantly; there was no time to wallow now, a decision had to be made.

“Get a closer look at those glyphs, see if you can tell more about how they work and whether it’s a workable solution, then give me your best guess. If you think he can make it, then that’s what we’ll do. If not, we’ll have to run like heck the way we came. In the meantime, I’ll see about getting this damn crystal lit so that we don’t have to come back here again!”

With that, he stormed up to the altar, already pulling the leather cord from around his neck. Words below the crystal caught his eye, and leaned down to see a very familiar set of lines etched there:

_Darkness threatens all;  
_ _Your destiny awaits.  
_ _Leadership will shine its light,  
_ _And open homeward gates._

“What do you want from me?” he muttered under his breath, expecting no answer. “My friend’s half-dead because of me, I can’t keep this team from verbally attacking eah other, and I’m so afraid to step up and take responsibility that I let my team down back home and hurt my younger siblings by avoiding them. I don’t know what I’m doing here, but if I’m supposed to be the leader, we’re all doomed.”

_“Just because you have not tried does not mean you are incapable.”_

Josh jerked back, looking around, but the siblings didn’t seem to have heard either his statement, or the low, humming response that seemed to emanate from the stone around him. He wasn’t even sure if it had been aloud or in his head. Feeling incredibly stupid, but testing a theory, he whispered, “What if I’m incapable of trying?”

_“You and I both know that is not true.”_

Scenes flashed through his mind in rapid succession: him convincing Zach not to leave the twins behind when they first arrived, him making the decision to go after Garland and Sara, him comforting Leslie in her moments of doubt, him stepping in when Zach did nothing but attack Matt, and him encouraging Matt to trust the rest of the team.

_“You have backed off every time. Nevertheless, the potential is there. The question remains: will you accept your role and be the leader your friends need?”_

“Who are you? Are you Lukahn?”

He could’ve sworn the deep, thrumming voice chuckled at that, but at last he answer came.

_“I am not. I am one who has known you long, though you do not yet know me. Now, will you accept your role and lead?”_

For all the voice was claiming about him not knowing who it was, there was something Josh found familiar about it—though he couldn’t say what. Filing the mystery away for later consideration, the warrior turned his mind to the question at hand. “If that’s what needs to be done to get us out of here alive, then yes—I do.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the crystal in his hand and the one on the altar sparked to life, the yellow glow at the heart expanding until it filled every facet. There was a yelp from the other side of the little table as the black mage jumped back.

“Hey, Wilson—I got an answer for you: the glyphs are powered by the crystal itself. I—I think Zach’ll make it just fine.”

Josh jerked back to the present, staring at the younger boy for a second before the meaning of his words sunk in. With one last look at the poem on the altar, Josh turned to the others. “Alright then—let’s get him back to Melmond!”

The party made their way over to the part of the floor now glowing with the crystal’s power, and a moment, later, they vanished. Alone with the glow of the yellow light, the same voice from before whispered a tired, contented farewell:

_“Travel well, Bearer of the Earth Crystal. May your journey be clear, and may you succeed where I have failed.”_


	10. Ready to Learn

_“I am always ready to learn although I do not always like being taught.” (Winston Churchill)_

* * *

The local healer in Melmond _was_ able to help Zach, and though the party was delayed a few days while they waited for him to get healthy enough to travel, none of them complained, or blamed the red mage. For his part, Zach spent most of the enforced rest observing the recovering town’s dynamic, since he couldn’t help his friends or the crew to restock the ship.

The strawberry-blond boy began to see some troubling signs during this time. Whenever the more visible Warriors of Light were in town, the richer townsfolk made a show of helping their less fortunate neighbors to rebuild, offering free supplies and help with the labor, but whenever another run to the harbor was made, the same ‘helpers’ insisted on being paid for their aid.

Even Josh’s young fan, Nathan, was not as innocent as he seemed. In reality, he was the leader of a group of sneak thieves who made off with building materials, food, shop merchandise, and personal valuables alike.

_Hey, cut the kid some slack,_ the red mage told himself, _you know he’s got a pretty large family. He’s just doing the best he can to take care of them. Okay, so maybe it’s not the most laudable, or honorable way to do so, but given how things seem to go in this town, you can’t exactly blame him._

And that was the crux of the problem, he supposed. It was pretty clear that Melmond was the sort of town where the honest person couldn’t get ahead: the path to riches, or even just survival, was a crooked one. As much as he told himself that this was their status quo, and it wasn’t his place to judge or speak up, he couldn’t deny how _wrong_ it felt—or that he felt guilty for leaving with the others as soon as he could without having done anything to change the way Melmond ran.

Still, he tried not to let the others see how unsettled he was by the town they’d just saved, especially since they all seemed to still be worried about his physical well-being.

Leslie stood beside him at the rail as the watched Melmond disappear into the horizon. “They were good people,” the white mage said at last. “I’m sure the rebuilding will go well.”

The townspeople _had_ been good—once, before the vampire—Zach supposed. “Sure it will,” he said aloud in response to Leslie’s optimism, silently adding: _I hope._

* * *

When they weren’t battling the sea monsters that constantly attacked the _Pravoka’s Pride_ and her crew, the four young heroes didn’t actually have all that much to do and each in their own way made the most of the break. Josh would spar with and teach crew members not currently on duty, Matt would study maps, charts, and whatever texts were on hand that talked of magical theory and monster information, as if trying to learn everything he could about the world they were currently trapped in, Leslie followed Gunther around, learning what she could about ship operations and navigation, and Zach...well, Zach found himself drifting around the ship, increasingly uncomfortable with his place and role.

On board ship, he was pretty much useless—he wasn’t seasick, but he’d learned pretty quickly that he was just in the way whenever he tried to help—when it came to fighting, he was the back up: the back-up swords guy to help Josh, the other magician if they needed more spells, or the other healer if Leslie was running low on energy, but there wasn’t a single role he laid solo claim to in battle. And as for the team itself? Well, he was the diplomat, the guy who did the talking, even though it was pretty clear that it was those in charge would rather speak to Josh. And now that the warrior was slowly becoming more comfortable with being the front man, he wasn’t needed as much in that capacity. He didn’t really contribute much else, unless you counted cynical quips and sarcastic critiques.

As if his mood wasn’t already soured enough, he was now remembering that Matt had pointed out much the same back when they’d first met Astos:

_“You’re nothing but a coward, Prehill, content to follow orders and go with the status quo, because it’s easier than thinking for yourself, and it’s painless compared to actually giving a damn...You call him a ‘friend’, but all I’ve seen you act like is his lackey!”_

One day, the memory of the black mage’s accusation wouldn’t leave the older boy alone, actually driving him to seek out his rival, where Matt had holed up in one of the cabins with his study materials.

“What do you want, Prehill? I’m busy.”

“Yeah, yeah: you’re always busy, Meyers,” Zach muttered. “I was just wondering how you reconcile contrary ideas the way you seem to.”

That actually got the younger boy to glance up from the map of Crescent Lake he’d been poring over. “What are you talking about?”

Zach shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, but actually wondering what Matt’s answer would be. “Well, it seems you’re pretty quick to jump on me for blindly following Josh, but you keep telling Josh to step up and lead. Isn’t that—just a little—contradictory?”

“I don’t feel it is,” the black mage answered calmly, “given context. See, at school you just followed the prevailing trends of the popular clique because it was safe and easy. Josh was your connection to that group, so when the two of you ended up here, you just stuck to the established pattern. That didn’t mean Josh was leading, or giving you a good reason to trust or follow him. So, there’s nothing contradictory in wishing you’d grow either a spine or a brain and look at why you make the choices you do, and in hoping that he’d start acting like the sort of person who deserves to be followed.”

Maybe it wasn’t exactly the answer he wanted to hear, and it still surprised him how much the school’s outsider had been able to observe, but maybe it was what the red mage had needed to hear. Not that he was ready to accept that fully, yet, but even then he knew Matt’s words would stick with him as much as his parting words would:

“Just a thought, Prehill: If you go with the flow as a form of protection, what, exactly, is it that you’re afraid of?”

* * *

_What, exactly, is it that you’re afraid of?_

All through their walk to the town of Crescent Lake (because of course, there _couldn’t_ be a port right next to the town), Zach found himself trying and failing to come up with an answer to Matt’s question.

Was it losing his place in the ever-shifting social order of high school? That couldn’t be the complete answer—if he wanted to cash in on his position on the football team, he could pretty easily cement his own place. Was it that he was afraid of making the wrong choice? Probably not, there were times he knew the common consensus was a pretty stupid idea, and he didn’t say anything about it. Was it that he was lazy, as Matt had suggested, and was afraid of the effort it took to forge his own path?

...That was may have been closer to the truth than he liked to admit. After all, he rarely put in more than the minimum required effort into, well, into anything.

_Yeesh! If this soul-searching stuff always yields such hideous results, no wonder people so rarely do it._

* * *

When they finally arrived in town (after having to walk the long way around because, of course, they didn’t have a way of crossing the lake), they were met in the gate by an old man leaning on a staff.

“Sage Lukahn?” Josh asked, stepping forward.

The old man nodded, gesturing for the four youths to follow him. “One and the same! Terribly sorry about not meeting you in Cornelia. Truth be told, I was afraid that, if you knew what you’d be up against, you’d quit on the spot. No, it was better that you ease into things slowly.”

Matt’s glowing yellow eyes were half their normal size, indicating an unimpressed scowl. “So, going up against the ‘best swordsman in Cornelia’ was a _slow_ start?”

“Compared to what you were brought here to do? Most definitely,” Lukahn offered over his shoulder, leading them into a quiet, secluded meadow on the outskirts of town, where they wouldn’t be disturbed.

“Wait,” Zach cut in, realizing the implications of Lukahn’s revelation. “Do you mean that quitting was an option? Is it still one?”

Lukahn shrugged, looking half-embarrassed. “Technically, I suppose. I mean, this world isn’t exactly what you’re used to, I’m sure, but you could probably establish yourselves—create the best lives you can. But if you ever want to go back to wherever it is you came from, you’ve got to see this all the way through, I’m afraid.”

The red mage deflated slightly. “So, we’re not done—are we?”

“Done—my dear boy, you’ve barely begun! Do the math: one glowing crystal, three still dark. Did you honestly think this was something you could give anything less than your all to and call it a day? If you’re going to be the heroes this world needs, you’re in it for the long run and no mistake!” Lukahn stopped his rant, took a deep breath, then sat with a calm smile. “Now, if you want to continue on, I have some things to tell you that you would be better off knowing.”

Josh looked at the others, none of whom looked happy, but the grim expressions on their faces matched his mood as well. They were all in agreement: they didn’t want to go on, but they didn’t have much of a choice, now did they? As one, they sat, earning a beatific smile from the old eccentric. Before Lukahn could speak, however, Josh had a question for him. “How did you know we’re not from this world? Everyone else assumed...”

“Everyone else is an idiot,” Lukahn snapped, then shrugged. “But, to my understanding, the prophecy spoke of four Warriors of Light _coming_ when the whole world is in trouble. As I interpret it, that means you all had to come from somewhere else, and it doesn’t stand to reason that place is exactly like our own. How right am I, by the way?”

“Logic has not failed you, for certain,” Matt mumbled. “Now will you please get on with it?

The others flinched, but Lukahn only laughed amiably “Never met a black mage in a good mood—not matter what world they’re from! But, back to the point. I see you’ve already got one crystal lit, so I think you have an idea of what you’re up against. The Yellow Crystal of the Earth ain’t the only crystal in the world—nor was Lich the only fiend. If you want to set things right here, then you’ve got to defeat Lich’s brother and sisters: the Fiends of Fire, Water, and Wind, and relight the crystals they’re attacking.

“No one knows what the fiends are, or where they come from, but we who study their works know their cycle all too well: Tiamat, Fiend of Wind, rises first, laying waste to the civilizations to the north, then is followed two hundred years later by Kraken, Fiend of Water, who devastates all who would tread the domain of the water. Two hundred years later, Lich, Fiend of Earth, rises and rots the ground from within, and Marilith, Fiend of Fire, follows two hundred years later, burning all in her path, followed two centuries later by Tiamat once more. The fury of each fades three centuries after their rise, but we are never fully free of their effects.

“What is worse, an attack on one is an attack on all, so your defeat of Lich has awakened Marilith from slumber two hundred years early, and already Mount Gulg, her home, shows signs of erupting soon.” The four teens followed his gaze to the volcano, just visible on the horizon, and Leslie in particular flinched, though all paled. “You will not have long to face her, and she will awaken in the peak of her power, a much more fearsome foe than even her elder brother.”

Zach absently rubbed his arm, where the faintest scars remained, trying not to meet the others’ eyes. “Great. I don’t suppose this hero job is one we could pass off to somebody else, is it?”

Lukahn hesitated. “There are stories of others attempting to face the Fiends—some even say they managed to defeat as many as three—but failed in the end, or made some great mistake that led to the cycle continuing, unbroken. They all perished when the crystals darkened again, for any who would undertake this burden become inextricably linked to their element: each element is known for a particular trait and only someone in possession of that trait may bear or light the crystal—the other prophecies say as much.”

Josh’s head was reeling, but he managed to ask: “Other prophecies?”

“The prophecies etched on each crystal altar. No one knows where they came from, or who spoke them first, but they link the destiny of the crystal bearer to the trait that will restore light to the crystal,” Lukahn explained. “And therein is found the heart of your challenge: not only are the Fiends powerful monsters, but their very nature seeks to make you reject the trait that makes you a crystal bearer, rather though direct confrontation and taunts, or through causing you worst fears to be realized.”

Josh remembered that terrible moment when he _knew_ it’d been his bad call that’d nearly gotten Zach killed, and tried to picture Lich consciously orchestrating those dreadful circumstances. “Do they do it on purpose?”

“There is some debate on that fact, and most of the records are incomplete or vague at best, but the consensus that it is more a function of what they are—as the antithesis of the elements—rather than conscious choice, at least when it comes to the worst fears part,” Lukahn admitted. “But know that—conscious or not—the challenge _will_ come and you _must_ be prepared to face it, or all your efforts will come to nothing.”

Leslie frowned thoughtfully, asking at last: “This prophecy of yours...I know you spoke it, but where did it come from?”

“You mean, did I make it up to give people false hope and you four an inflated sense of self-importance? Hardly!” Lukahn didn’t seem insulted though, if anything—he seemed almost happy the question had been asked. “How else do prophecies come? A voice in a dream...well, four voices in concert, in this case. They claimed to be voices of past and future both. I would’ve written it off as wishful thinking—indeed, a friend of mine is still half-convinced that’s what it was—except that I also saw you four as clear as day, and I _never_ dream clear faces, especially if I’ve never seen them before. Besides that, I also saw the four altars, could read the prophecies on them. We’d only had bits and snippets of them before, you see, since no one dares attack the Fiends anymore. I did my research, verified what I could, then announced the prophecy. And here you are—from another world, no less! Do you need any more proof than that?”

Personally, Josh would’ve liked more proof—a lot more, and maybe an instruction manual as well—but they weren’t likely to get any more. Lukahn obviously couldn’t send them back; all the hope he had now rested on the final two lines etched in his memory, on the altar, and written on the paper he’d found:

_“Leadership will shine it’s light,  
_ _And open homeward gates.”_

If they lit all the crystals, broke the cycle, then maybe they could end this nightmare and get back to where they belonged. It was all they could do, and sensing Lukahn would tell them no more, they stood, ready to go back to town, rest, restock, and plan their next move. Josh lingered however, waiting to ask his final question until he and Lukahn were alone in the clearing.

“Sir,” he began, uncertain but determined to try, “before I lit the Earth Crystal, I heard a voice. It was old and deep, and seemed to be _inside _the rocks themselves. Do any of the stories mention something like that? None of the others seemed to hear it.”

Lukahn frowned. “Just the one? From what you describe, it’s one of the four voices that spoke to me—the one that claimed to be the source of the Prophecy of the Earth. I can’t tell you anything for sure, but my guess is that, whoever that was, it was the one who chose you to bear the Earth Crystal.”

The warrior nodded, then jogged after his friends. Once they were gone, Lukahn sat again, taking a deep breath. “Oh my,” he sighed. “That was harder than I thought it would be. Zeus preserve us if they figure out the rest on their own.”


	11. Young Volcanoes

_“We are wild—we are like young volcanoes!” (Fallout Boy, _Young Volcanoes_)_

* * *

The scene in the inn that night was not as tense as others, but neither was it a peaceful one. For once, there was little friction between the young heroes, only an air of resignation as they regarded the overwhelming task they were expected to undertake.

“I’d ask if we really thought we can do this,” Josh began at last, “but as near as I can see, we don’t have much of a choice. I don’t even know if we can get home—”

“—but it’s the only chance we’ve got,” Leslie finished. “You all noticed the line about ‘opening homeward gates’ too?”

Zach glanced around, then dared to voice a thought that had bothered him most of that afternoon. “Any of you wondering if they got the wrong people? I mean, we don’t really live out the traits any of those poems—prophecies, whatever—referenced.”

“Maybe,” Matt conceded, “but perhaps the potential is enough—Wilson did manage to get the Earth Crystal lit, after all. Anyway, it’s like you said, Josh: I don’t see we’ve got much of a choice, even as I doubt the wisdom of storming an active volcano.”

Zach shrugged. “Leave that to me: I’ve got an anti-flame spell that should minimize danger on that front, provided we move fast.”

Josh stood, nodding slowly. “Sounds like it’s settled then. Lukahn said he’d have a canoe ready for us by morning that’ll allow us to go up the rivers that lead to Mt. Gulg, so I don’t see any reason to delay.”

Everyone else nodded or voiced their agreement, then went to bed. Zach alone remained awake, marveling at the change that’d come over his friend in the week following their departure from Melmond, leaving him to wonder yet again if he’d be able to do the same if called upon, or whether his laziness was too ingrained to overcome.

_“Fortitude will shine its light,  
_ _And open homeward gates.”_

_In which case, I may be stuck here forever._

* * *

The closer the party got to the volcano, the more terrified Leslie became. Ironically, water and fire had been her two biggest fears back home, and while her fear of water had been apparently replaced with something akin to a love, the thought of getting too close to any kind of blaze—much less lava—still filled her with absolute dread and horror.

It was bad enough when Zach used his fire spells in battle, but at least then they were aimed at the monsters, and not at her. And now she was bein asked to _willingly_ march into an active volcano? The thought alone was almost more than her nerves could stand, and the only thing keeping her moving forward was the knowledge that there was _no_ way that Zach could maintain the anti-flame spell _and_ handle all the healing alone and still have energy left for the battle, even with the special potions they’d picked up that were supposed to replenish magical energy. No, her brother and her friends would need her.

_Friends?_ Leslie realized it was the first time that she’d referred to the football players as such, and yet, it felt right. _After all, there’s no way we can go through all of this together and end up as less than friends._

As comforting a thought as that was, it was soon overshadowed by the smoking peak above them, and terror returned in full force. The white mage almost didn’t notice Zach chanting until all four teens were surrounded by glowing red auras. Zach finished the spell, looking satisfied, but not smirking like she’d come to expect. She wasn’t used to the red mage looking so—dare she say—grim, nor was she used to the serious tone with which he spoke: “There—that should keep us from frying. I’ll have to re-cast that every few minutes, and we’re not completely fire-proof, but it’s still better than nothing.”

_No jokes or cynical remarks about ‘heroes en flambé’? Well, I guess after everything we learned yesterday, even Zach would have trouble recovering his sense of humor. I can’t really blame him._

* * *

Zach was no fool. The crystal around his neck was red, and given that the other two were green and blue, it didn’t take him too much mental effort to figure out who would be the next one of the group to face ‘their crystal’. It was this conclusion that dampened his mood, as much as the thoughts he’d wrestled with the night before.

For him, the volcano poised a much greater challenge than the marsh cave or earth cavern. Not only were the hellhounds, lava worms, fire ogres, and fire elementals more difficult than any monsters they’d faced before, not only did he have the challenge the Fire Crystal would present hanging over his head—he also had to be on constant alert for any fluctuations in the spell that maintained their fire-proof shield so that he could recast the spell, if and when it came to that. It was more exhausting than he thought it would be, and the fact that the others’ lives were completely dependent on hm applying full effort and concentration was a new, unwelcome pressure.

A voice in his head (which had a depressing resemblance to Matt’s sharp tone) kept urging him to maintain hitherto unprecedented (for him) levels of focus. _There’s no way you’re getting anywhere with a half-hearted effort on this one, Prehill. _

* * *

By the time they’d fought their way through the first two levels, working their way ever deeper into the deadly, boiling heart of the volcano, all four were exhausted, and injured in some way or the other—at the very least, the heat that managed to seep through Zach’s spell (no matter how he tried to strengthen it) sapped their energy and left skin red and beginning to blister.

Like their first trip through the Cavern of the Earth, Matt was insisting on using as little magic as possible. Mt. Gulg was certainly taking more of a toll on the four heroes than the previous Fiend’s lair, requiring even their healing potions to be rationed. By halfway through the third level, Josh—who’d been taking the brunt of the attacks, turned to the black mage. “Matt, I know your strategy is usually sound, but we’ll never make it down to where Marilith is if we keep it up at this rate. Even if we do—we won’t be in any kind of shape to fight her. I know you don’t want us using any more magic than necessary, but we _need_ a more powerful healing than those potions are giving us. We need a spell.”

“Absolutely not!” Matt snapped. “I’m keeping enough potions in reserve to recover us before we face Marilith, but it’s too much of a risk to use magic. Remember how spells were the only thing that kept Lich down? Prehill’s getting run ragged with just the flame-proofing spell. Do you really want to push our luck any further?”

All at once Josh turned to his friend, as if seeking the support that the lankier boy usually gave him. “What do you say, Zach? Surely you agree that we need to make an exception here?”

Zach hesitated, glancing briefly at the fiery yellow eyes. The black mage did not verbally ask for support, but his glare sent a silent challenge: would Zach at least think for himself before choosing a side?

In the end, the challenge came to nothing, as Leslie spoke up. “Wait—both of you! I’ve barely used any magic since coming in here, and besides my usual support spells and some healings I’m not going to be able to do much in the fight against Marilith, so I can spare a healing spell every floor or so.”

“Hang on, Les,” her brother replied, probably frowning. “How do you know that’s all you’ll be able to do against the Fiend?”

“Simple,” the white mage responded calmly: “There’s no way the Fiend of Fire is any kind of undead monster, so all of my offensive spells are pretty much useless. I can risk the healings.” Without waiting for her brother’s reply, she rattled off the spell quickly.

Duly refreshed, the party forged onward, but Zach still remembered the challenge in those burning yellow eyes. _It’s not about who or what you choose,_ they seemed to say,_ but how you choose—so what will it be?_

* * *

By halfway through the _next_ level (Seriously—how deep did this mountain go? If they had to journey into the very heart of the earth itself, he was going to throttle Lukahn for neglecting full disclosure), Zach figured that the others had forgotten about him for everything except the shield spell, so he let his mind wander slightly, trying to figure out what, exactly, he’d be expected to do to get the Fire Crystal relit. (He was being optimistic and assuming they’d beat Marilith.) Since he’d been unconscious during the last attempt, he’d cornered Josh on the ship and tried to ask about what had happened, but the warrior had been uncharacteristically tight-lipped about the events following Lich’s defeat.

“Stop fidgeting, Prehill. I know you’re worried about lighting the crystal, but we need your head in the game for the monster attacks we’re already dealing with.”

“Sorry,” Zach muttered, and then his eyes flew open wide as his rival’s words sunk in. “Wait: who said I was—I’m not—How do you—What makes you think _I’m_ the one who’s got to light the crystal?”

The others were all staring at him now, causing him to flush with embarrassment (not that anyone could tell in the lava’s red glow). Finally, Matt answered in a dry, half-amused voice. “Zach, we’re not fools. You’ve got the red crystal, and are you forgetting your still-disturbing affinity for any kind of magic dealing with flames? If any of us is the fire guy—it’s you.”

“Right,” he grumbled under his breath, kicking himself for not realizing sooner that the others would figure out it was his turn as easily as he had.

Josh clapped a friendly hand of support on his friend’s shoulder, jovially exclaiming, “You’ve got this, man—if anyone can figure it out, it’s you, Zach.”

Zach found himself highly doubting that fact, but he appreciated the gesture of support, nevertheless.

* * *

They _finally_ found their way into the chamber that was a hellish mirror of Lich’s lair in the Cavern of the Earth: a nearly-identical altar (though the darkened crystal was a dull red instead of a sickly faded yellow), crumbling walls and stalagmites, (though these were tinged red with the lava that always pulsed behind them, threatening to bake the teens from the inside out). And instead of hiding as Lich had done at first, Marilith was waiting for them, blocking their way to the fire crystal.

The upper half of her body was that of a woman with cherry-red skin and no less than _six_ arms, each wielding its own saber, while the lower half was a giant, purple-scaled serpent tail, though it ended in a stinger that would’ve been much more appropriate at the end of a scorpion’s tail. She bared her snake’s fangs in a hungry sneer at the sight of the young heroes. “Fresh snacks?” She licked her lips with a forked tongue. “Prepare to be fire-roasted!” Unlike her more long-winded predecessor, that was all Marilith spoke before both she and her foes launched into battle

Their strategy (agreed upon the night before) was simple: the Meyers twins would open with their usual spells to boost power, speed, defense, and agility, then Leslie would stand ready to heal as needed while Matt began pounding away with as powerful an ice-spell as he had, as many times as he could. Zach would do the same, while Josh held Marilith’s attention with a full-frontal assault.

Nothing went particularly wrong, especially at first, but after the third spell, Zach had to face the fact that the ice wasn’t really affecting the Fiend of Fire nearly as much as they’d hoped. She was, however, staying injured whenever one of Josh’s hit managed to land, and the red mage quickly decided that they needed a strategy adjustment. He was even more convinced of that when he noticed just how much the warrior was struggling in his deadly dance with the serpent-lady.

Six swords versus one was hardly a fair fight, and even with the boosts from the twins, speed and agility were hardly Josh’s strong suit. Zach turned to the younger mages beside him. “Boost me up,” he ordered “—I’m going to help him out. I think a physical attack will do more good than magic, at this point.”

Leslie seemed hesitant, but her brother immediately complied. Trusting the white mage would cast her part of the support when she realized he was serious, Zach charged from where the mages had taken shelter, leaping into the fray alongside his friend.

“What the hell, Zach?” Josh shouted as the two fought side-by-side. “We need you casting those ice spells!”

“Meyers has that handled,” Zach retorted. “Besides: you need the help, and I’m doing more good here than I was back there!” As if to prove his point, one of Marilith’s sabers flashed in a downward arc that would’ve ended with a carved-open Josh lying on the cavern floor, but Zach caught it with his own blade and twisted it away, managing to get a strike of his own in before the two had to go back on the defensive again.

For his part, Matt had apparently decided to adapt his own strategy, as well. Instead of trying to spread the magic ice all over Marilith, he focused it into large spear points and used them as another form of physical attack. The fight ended as he drove a particularly large one into the monster’s neck.

The serpent-woman hybrid dropped like a stone, all six arms hanging limp and lifeless as their sabers clattered to the ground. Panting with exhaustion, Zach looked over to see the black mage’s eyes sparking in amused triumph. “It helps if you aim for a target that would actually be fatal.”

“Easy...for..._you_...to say,” Zach wheezed out. “_You..._could reach...that high!”

* * *

Joking aside, the time had come for the red mage to do the one thing he was pretty sure he couldn’t. As he stood, hesitating, Josh whispered quietly, “Just go up to the altar—you’ll know what to do.”

Since he didn’t have any better ideas, he took his friends advice, on instinct slipping the smaller crystal from around his neck and placing it beneath its larger cousin. As he did so, he noticed the inscription on the altar. _The Fire Prophecy, I suppose_. Of course, he knew the lines well by now:

_Darkness threatens all;  
_ _Your destiny awaits.  
_ _Fortitude will shine its light,  
_ _And open homeward gates._

“What does that even mean?” he muttered under his breath.

_“You and I both know that you have already guessed the truth.”_

At the unexpected answer, Zach stiffened, looking around, but there were no signs of another speaker, nor did the others appear to have noticed anything. The voice had been ancient but fast, with a tone of dry humor behind it—cracking and hissing like a tongue of fire was trying to speak. He’d never heard anything like it, and yet it seemed familiar in a way. As it spoke, images flashed through his mind of all the times since coming to this world he’d known something was wrong—when Matt pointed out Astos’s trap, and all that he’d observed of Melmond and its people—but said or done nothing.

_“The only question now is: are you willing to face your fears, stand for what is right, and do nothing less than your best to help set things to right? ...My word, that does sound pretentious now that I’ve said it.”_

“Yeah, a little,” Zach managed to whisper hoarsely in response. It felt weird, having a conversation with a disembodied voice that only he could hear, but hey—if he _was_ going crazy, might as well embrace it, eh? “So what do I do—give the right answer and this overgrown ruby lights up?”

_“Something like that; only you have to mean it.”_

Zach frowned. “How will you—it—whatever—know?”

_“The crystal can only be lit when you light the fire within—so to speak. And as for me? Well, let’s just say I know you too well to be fooled by any half-ass effort.”_

The irreverent tone and modern words surprised Zach, but he felt a sort of _kinship_ with the voice, for lack of a better word, so he acknowledged the obstacle he’d yet to overcome: “I’m scared, though.”

_“Well, of course you are! That’s not the issue. The question is: are you willing to forge ahead anyway?”_

Was he? Was he_ really_? Only days before he’d been faced with his own laziness and cowardice, and now he had to decide whether or not he was going to overcome them? _Or maybe its whether or not I’m willing to try..._

“I am,” he said at last, and both Fire Crystals began to glow, revealing another set of teleportation glyphs on the cavern floor. Zach followed the others onto them and out of the mountain, not hearing the words spoken in the now-empty room.

_“Travel well, bearer of the Fire Crystal. Try not to mess it up this time!”_


	12. Shoot for the Moon

_“Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars.” (Norman Vincent Peale)_

* * *

It was well after dark by the time an exhausted party navigated their canoe downstream, across Crescent Lake, and into the town, so it wasn’t until the next morning that the four teens even tried to confront Lukahn. As it turned out, he was waiting for them in the tavern attached to the inn the next morning, with a huge breakfast feast spread out on the table in front of him. Beaming, the old eccentric indicated they join him.

The boys—even Matt—needed no further invitation and launched themselves at the free food, while Leslie (who never had much of a morning appetite) took only an apple and a mug of coffee (which she’d been undyingly grateful to discover existed in this strange world—otherwise her magic would’ve been depleted keeping her and her brother free of caffeine headaches).

At first, there were no sounds but that of four teenagers and an old man eating, but halfway through his second plate, Josh finally spoke up. “So, I suppose you’re going to tell us that, now that we’ve defeated Marilith and relit the Fire Crystal, the next fiend has awoken early or started attacking faster or something?”

“Unfortunately, yes, creating your first difficulty in reaching him,” was Lukahn’s reply.

Leslie held her peace as her brother’s skeptical tone echoed her own thoughts. “_First_ difficulty? As in there will be more?”

“Truth be told, one could say Kraken’s aggravated attacks are your second difficulty, and your first is his location, but that’s quibbling over details,” Lukahn admitted. “The plain fact is, he’s located off the coast of the North East continent—and there aren’t any ports on either northern continent. Unless you can teleport or fly, there’s no way to get to him or Tiamat. Technically, given that he’s underwater and she’s in the sky, one wonders if it’s possible anyway, but that’s a moot issue if you can’t even get to the right part of the world...”

Suddenly, none of them felt lie they had much of an appetite. Leslie sensed an all-too familiar air of frustration budding around the boys, and quickly put in, “You said there have been others before us. Have they managed to get to the northern continents? Does anyone know how?”

Lukahn beamed at the white mage, as if she’d just answered a test question correctly. “As a matter of fact, I did manage to unearth a record—did some digging while you were takin on Mt. Gulg and Marilith, see—and found rumors of an airship that was used by the last bunch of heroes, oh, about 2,000 years ago, now. Legend says, after they failed, their helpers hid the airship in the desert, and the power core, the secret to its flight, in the Cavern of Ice. That way, only the next group of worthy warriors could find it and use the ship, hopefully to finish the job, this time.”

“Cavern of Ice, eh?” Zach asked, idly running a small tongue of flame across his fingers. “Sounds manageable. How far?”

“I’ll show you on a map!” Lukahn cried, and Leslie sensed their odd guide was relieved, as if he’d just gotten away with something. Before she could puzzle out why, a thought struck her.

_Kraken—the next fiend. The Kraken is a sea monster. I’ve got a blue crystal, and suddenly love sailing where before, it terrified me..._

_I’m next!_

* * *

Fortunately, the Cavern of Ice wasn’t too far away—although, the trip was made longer by the fact that Josh and Leslie felt that the four of them should check in with Gunther and the crew to let them know the plan. Matt had noticed how close the two of them seemed—especially since that night in Melmond, before the fight with Lich, and the black mage wasn’t sure what to think.

All of his old protective instincts were screaming t him to get the big oaf away from his baby sister before she got hurt, but his rational mind and imagination together cobbled up some pretty gruesome possibilities for how Leslie might react if he interfered in her love life. And another part of him had to admit that Josh and Zach’s sword work was quickly becoming the thing keeping the whole team alive and (mostly) healthy, meaning they might be better at protecting his twin than he was.

After all, it’d been mere luck that he’d killed Marilith: the ice wasn’t really doing anything. Most of the monsters they were encountering now had at least trace amounts of magic resistance, and some more than that. And the coming cavern?

_Fire beats ice, and when it comes to magic, Zach’s the fire guy, not me. I’ve got to face the facts—my magic’s becoming obsolete, and it’s all I contribute to this team._

That was why, every night—whether they were in an inn or camping out in the wilds—once the others were asleep, he forced himself to stay awake and drill fighting forms with his dagger for hours. He couldn’t see if he was improving any, and he _knew_ that he should ask one of the two athletes for help.

Okay, so Zach would tease him to no end, but at least Leslie was right in pointing out Josh was pretty nice for a jock. But the thought of ridicule or worse—patronization—however well-intended, was enough to make him continue his stubborn refusal to ask for help.

* * *

At first, the Cavern of Ice wasn’t that bad. Okay, so there were a few embarrassing slips and falls, but honestly, those were funny more than they were dangerous. But the place twisted and turned on itself, forcing them to constantly backtrack and spend even more time in the frozen depths.

Josh noticed Leslie shivering halfway through the second level, and only the mental image of Matt shooting him with a lightning bolt kept him from putting his arm around the younger girl. Who knew the school nerd could be so intimidating?

It was also on that floor that they discovered what Zach termed the ‘ice minefields’—stretches of the floor impossible to cross without injury. The white and red mage split healing duties at first, until Leslie pointed out most of the enemies they encountered were weak to fire.

“That means we need you on magical offense, Zach,” she said quietly. “Besides, I have the most stamina, magically. I’ll be fine with the healings.”

She still seemed quiet and timid, but the warrior noticed that Leslie was getting more comfortable speaking up, even disagreeing with the group. He was glad she was feeling more comfortable around them, and—

Josh paid for his distraction as he stepped on a previously tiny crack on the floor, and a good chunk of ice gave way, dropping the four of them about ten feet. Given the distance (and amount of sharp weapons in the pile of people) it was amazing they weren’t injured, though all were shaken up by the unexpected descent.

After that, they were on high alert for more of the tell-tale cracks. It was Zach who figured out how to use the unstable surface to their advantage. They’d found the Levistone Lukahn had sent them there to fetch, but had been unable to cross the floor to it. Then the red mage remembered seeing a crack right above the stone, and sure enough, one more back-track and fall later, the Levistone was in their grasp.

Unfortunately, _they_ were in the grasp of an undead-type monster with a giant eye, who’d managed to freeze Zach and Matt in its first, unexpected attack. Josh and Leslie fought desperately, but the white mage soon succumbed to the hypnotizing glare, and the warrior felt himself fill with rage.

Whirling quickly to the paralyzed form of his friend, Josh traded his own axe for the sword Zach had found partway through this frozen hellscape—a sword whose blade was entirely made out of fire. After a few blows with the fiery saber, the creature shrieked and collapsed in on itself, dissolving into nothing. Once the source of the stare was gone, the others bean to revive.

Josh was keeping a close eye on Leslie, who was still shivering and seemed to have been affected the worst by the Dead Eye’s stare, but he did, at least, remember to return Zach’s weapon.

The red mage took the sword back with a smirk. “No way to pass off the credit for this one—eh, Fearless Leader?”

* * *

Instead of returning to Crescent Lake immediately, the exhausted group of four trekked back to their ship. Gunther’s eyes lit up at the sight of the treasure they carried. “If’n my eyes aren’t deceiving me, then that’d be the Levistone itself. Oh, the stories this old water-walloper has heard! The Lufenian’s up north figured out how to make stone’s fly, then how to use those stones to launch a ship inta the air. Imagine that—sailing the sky itself! Nothin’ to stop you, no pirates who could catch you, crossin’ the world in less time than it takes to sail the Aldi Sea!”

The old sailor was in favor of setting off at once, but the travel-weary group of heroes did get him to agree to at least _one_ night rest after putting forward the argument that it wasn’t very clear when they’d get another chance to rest in safety. Thus, it was a little before sunrise before _Pravoka’s Pride_ was under sail, bound for the southern desert.

Lukahn hadn’t been exactly clear on how they were supposed to _find_ the airship, but the end it was revealed he didn’t need to be. As soon as they crossed into the sandy waste, Levistone, Gunther, and crew in tow, the dunes parted and shifted aside as a huge ship—twice the size of their current vessel—decked with propellers and engines in addition to the normal sails, floated slowly, painfully, into sight.

They all stared at the behemoth, now that it was fully revealed, and it was Gunther who summed up everyone’s reaction after the dramatic revelation.

“That ship...” he muttered, in a daze, “...is a pile of junk!”

* * *

Unfortunately, Gunther’s summary was accurate. The legendary airship had obviously seen better days. Beyond the wear and tear of being hidden under sand for centuries upon centuries, there was obvious battle scars, and significant damage to the engine—perhaps from battle, perhaps from the original crew’s haste to remove and hide the Levistone—that rendered the whole craft inoperable and left a general impression of now-ruined grandeur. Not exactly the craft one sails in to save the world...

Gunther paced around the hulk several times, glowering darkly and muttering under his breath the whole time, apparently not noticing the thin layer of sand that was slowly coating him. The four teens stood with the rest of the crew, wilting a little in the heat as they awaited the oldest member of their party’s decision.

“Well,” the old captain said, coming to a halt at last, “the hull ain’t as bad as it looks—almost, but not quite. She’s still a sturdy craft, under all that ruin, so we don’t have to scrap and start over. I’d say me and the boys could handle the _ship_ repairs in a week—2 weeks if’n you wanted ‘er to look nice and pretty. It’s the _air_ part as has got me all worried. I ain’t no mechanical mind, and I ain’t no magician either. Just taken a quick look around inside tells me you’d need to be both to get that engine goin’ again. I’m sorry fellers, but I don’t know what to say.”

Josh nodded slowly as he digested Gunther’s assessment, taking time to mull over his gut instinct and imagine likely outcomes. Determining it was worth the risk, he spoke at last. “Go ahead and get the boys working on the hull—and don’t worry about appearances so long as she can get the job done. I’ve got an idea for the engine.”

Duly satisfied, Gunther turned to get his crew in line, leaving the other three to stare at the warrior. “Uh, Josh?” Zach managed at last, “I’ve been tutoring you in science since middle school. What on _earth_ are you going to do about that engine?”

“Me? Nothing. I’m in the same boat as Gunther—no pun intended. But _you_,” he said, pointing at his best friend, “and _you_,” (this was aimed at Matt), “have the brains and magic between you to figure it out _if you work together_ without _any_ arguing, insulting, grumbling, or cheap shots. This isn’t some group project with a grade at stake here, it’s bigger than that. We need you to get your act together and cooperate for once.”

He faltered to a halt, seeing the other three staring at him with matching stunned expressions. “What?”

Zach recovered first, shaking his head. “Just odd to see you so comfortable with being the fearless leader.” The red mage shrugged, smirking at his taller friend. “Hey, it suits you.”

The black mage’s eyes resumed their normal, half-lidded state, but the tone with which he spoke wasn’t as sharp as normal. “And you’ve got a point. Well, let’s take a look at the problem and see what we come up with, eh, Prehill?”

The two boys made their way to the airship, leaving Leslie behind with Josh. The white mage smiled shyly, but her voice held no fearful tremor. “I think you got through to them, for once.”

“Really? I’m afraid I just mixed potassium and water here,” Josh admitted. Leslie shook her head.

“Sounds like Zach’s science help is rubbing off. No, but seriously—I noticed my brother didn’t slip in a single quip about Zach blowing up the ship, and Zach didn’t say something stupid like, ‘ladies first’. Maybe it will last, maybe it won’t, but it’s a start, at least. And you’re right about one thing for sure—if those two can get their act together, they’ll be unstoppable when they collaborate.”

* * *

To their mutual surprise, Zach and Matt found that they bounced ideas off of each other very well, and after only a few tense moments and setbacks, they figured out how to maximize on their particular skill sets—Zach’s creativity and unorthodox approaches, and Matt’s encyclopedic memory and predisposition to organization. That wasn’t to say there weren’t slip-ups and occasional back-handed compliments thrown in (just to let the other know that this was in no way going to be a regular thing), but for the sake of the mission, they kept working, proving Leslie’s assessment accurate, as the engine reached working order around the same time that Gunther deemed the hull sea-worthy—or air-worthy.

* * *

Thus it was that, one week nearly to the day after finding the wreckage of the airship, the crew of _Pravoka’s Pride_ had their new vessel (which had been dubbed the _Burning Bolt_ by Zach as a joke, only to have it stick) primed and ready to embark. Down in the engine room, Zach, at the navigation control, turned to Matt, who stood by the power supply console. “Care to do the honors, Meyers?”

“It’d be my genuine pleasure,” was the black mage’s reply, as he shot a carefully-controlled burst of lightning into the engine core, jump-starting it. The ancient behemoth shuddered to life, and (slowly at first, then with increasing speed), the _Burning Bolt_ regained its rightful place in the sky, before turning and continuing the journey northwards at last.


	13. Stronger

_“I've got to be stronger, reach up higher; must dig deeper, find the fire; feel enlightened—can't be frightened anymore!” (“Stronger”, _Finding Neverland_)_

* * *

The first day of airship travel wasn’t so bad—there was some slight turbulence, some tension in the engine room (Matt and Zach having determined that it took both of them to keep the ship running), and a learning curve for the crew, but nothing that seriously delayed them or inconvenienced them too much. Actually, Josh kind of enjoyed it, as he and Leslie were the only two members of the unlikely band with no specific shipboard duties, leavin them a lot of time to just talk.

She told him about what it was like growing up with a twin and about some of the hijinks she and Matt had gotten up to when they were younger—he would not have pegged to Meyer’s siblings for troublemakers, but hey apparently had a highly-indulged sense of humor and a streak of mischief a mile wide—and in return, he told her about his two siblings, and some of the more entertaining misadventures he and Zach had shared.

“I never would have guessed!” he said at last. “You and Matt are so serious and quiet, but the way you tell it, you’re both class clowns! Why don’t you act that way at school?”

He could almost see Leslie’s walls being partially rebuilt as soon as he asked his question, and she couldn’t meet his eyes as she answered, “I can’t speak for my brother, but for me: I was afraid of what people would think. I always so afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing, or not picking up on something basic, that I didn’t dare try.”

Josh didn’t know what to say to that, but some of her phrasing did catch his attention. “You said you _were_ afraid of what people think—are you still?”

She didn’t answer at first, and he was terrified he’d offended the white mage, but finally, Leslie spoke. “After all this time, I’m beginning to feel more comfortable around you and Zach. Well, I still can’t get much of a read on him to be honest, but...”

Her voice trailed off, and the conversation was left there for a moment, but as it resumed on another topic, both were blushing slightly.

* * *

The next day, however, was not so peaceful. A huge, seething storm attacked the vessel ruthlessly, blowing her wildly off course and threatening to utterly destroy the _Burning Bolt_.

“It’s got to be that Kraken and Tiamat!” Gunther yelled over the storm at one point. “They know yer comin’ fer ‘em, and they be scared enough to work together on the mother of all monsoons. We’ve got to put down on the first spit of land you see, or we’ll be crushed!”

“There!” one of the youngest crewmembers called, pointing off the starboard bow. “There’s an island down there!”

Gunther frowned at the small landmass. “It’ll be a tight squeeze, and a hard target to hit with the winds blowin’ as they are, but I don’t see as how we’ve got much of anther choice!” Decision reached, he launched into action, shouting orders at his crew as they prepared to make their first-ever landing in the new craft...

* * *

...Needless to say, it was a crash-landing...minus the landing. Once the crew managed to extricate each other from the rubble, Zach and Leslie did their best to heal everybody. It soon became clear that what remained of the airship was providing much-less-than-adequate shelter from the still-raging storm, so there was a madcap-dash for the nearby cave that’d been spotted during one tremendously huge lightning-flash.

They all made it and stood, dripping and panting, just inside the mouth of the cave, staring in horrified awe at the remains of the _Burning Bolt_ as they were pounded mercilessly by the elements...well, two of them, at least.

Josh thought he overheard Matt growl at Zach, “Oh, go ahead and make a bad joke, Prehill—we all know you want to.”

The warrior saw his friend shrug, and didn’t even try to suppress a groan at the ensuing quip. “This, people, is why we can’t have nice things!”

Whatever response he might have gotten (not that the red mage was likely to get one anymore) was cut off by an unamused, cold, and rasping voice. “Well, if you’re going to invade a dragon’s cave, at least you might have the manners to do something more interesting than stand around, dripping on the doormat!”

* * *

As it turned out, the dragon (a serpentine, quadrapedal figure with a wingspan almost equal to his impressive length and rock-hard, sapphire-blue scales) was named Cyril, and he was actually quite friendly. He invited them to come further inside, and used a quick stream of fire breath to light torches placed at intervals along the winding corridor. Truth be told, the gigantic underground cavern wasn’t just a dragon’s cave—it was a dragon’s city!

“We have set-ups like this on all of the Cardia Islands,” Cyril explained as he led them into the side-cavern that was his home. “This city happens to be the capital, if you will—the one our king, Bahamut, lives in. It’s been a few centuries since we’ve had human visitors, but don’t worry—most of us haven’t forgotten our manners. Hades, most of us still have guest chambers furnished so that you puny little two-legs can be comfortable!”

Cyril’s tone was light enough, and given that he was nearly twenty feet long and half that height at the shoulder alone, no one was going to protest about his description of humans. Instead, Leslie noticed something else. “Most?”

Their guide turned his head away, seemingly embarrassed. “Prolonged exposure to the stronghold of any fiend will twist any living near it into gross caricatures of themselves. The dragons of Cardia Isle have been spared this fate, but our brethren who dwelt in what is now the Yahnikrum Desert were not so lucky. Their human allies, the Lefeinish, suffered a fate nearly as tragic as our friends, the merfolk, and all living dragons at the time were wiped out. Their eggs, though, were poisoned by Tiamat’s presence and the dragons that hatch from them are twisted, stunted, mindless, and evil. It is our race’s greatest tragedy and shame.”

“That’s terrible!” Leslie exclaimed, horrified by the mental image of a civilization as proud and beautiful as the one she had glimpsed during their brief journey to Cyril’s home being reduced to nothing more than a hoard of mindless brutes. She’d always loved dragon stories, especially ones where the dragons at least had a chance to be good and wise, and her tender heart broke at the thought of that chance being taken away from these magnificent creatures.

Cyril must’ve heard a bit of that in her tone, for the look in his azure eyes as he regarded the small white mage once more was softer than any the motley crew had yet seen from their host. “Indeed it was, my friends, and still it is. But enough of such talk tonight. You are weary and must rest—you will hear more of this tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Josh couldn’t stop himself from asking. “What happens tomorrow?”

Cyril’s expression was amused, and his tone indicted there was a joke or surprise hidden behind his plain answer. “Tomorrow? Why, that is your audience before Bahamut, the Dragon King.”

* * *

Bahamut was an imposing figure, indeed. Even when crouched and curled on the dais that served as his throne, it was clear the obsidian-scaled King of the Dragons was twice if not three times as tall as Cyril, and almost four times as long. With ancient eyes that were black as twin pools of darkness, he watched the four Warriors of Light enter his hall, smiling a little to himself at the apprehension none of the youths were quite able to hide, especially as they realized the gargantuan cavern was filled with broken, corroded, or stolen swords—all that remained of would-be dragon hunters.

It was an interesting dynamic for the Oldest of Dragons to observe. The black and red mages stood as far from each other as possible; the warrior stood in front of the others, ready to defend his less physically-imposing companions; the final party member, the white mage, stood between the black mage and warrior, and her apprehension seemed mixed with awe. Despite their fear, they approached the dais as he knew his nephew, Cyril, had instructed them, and knelt in unison.

As they did so, Bahamut raised himself a little on his forelegs and lifted his head, stretching his neck a little, briefly nodding to his nephew, who’d stopped, waiting, halfway down the hall. Turning his attention back to the kneeling humans, Bahamut spoke in a voice that was surprisingly warm and rich, though undeniably ancient. “Rise, Warriors of Light, and welcome to the court of Bahamut. As... _unexpected_ as your arrival was, the timing was fortuitous indeed, for the dragons of Cardia Isles have business with those who would set themselves against the Fiends of Water and Air.”

The four teens stood, exchanging uncertain glances, before the red mage took it upon himself to speak. “Um...by ‘have business with’ do you mean ‘send on yet another quest’ or do you mean ‘attack on sight’...uh, King Bahamut?”

The Oldest of Dragons saw his nephew stiffen at the young human’s question, but Bahamut only threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, lighten up, hatchling!” He called to Cyril. “Of course the Bearer of the Fire Crystal will have some spirit! And it is a fair question, given past precedent. But no, little mage, I meant neither of those things. The only quest the dragons would have you compete is that which you have already undertaken—defeat our greatest foes, Kraken and Tiamat. So long as you continue in this, we have no reason to attack. By ‘have business with’, I meant ‘an intent to render aid’. Because frankly, as it stands, you’d be nothing more than fish food should you undertake to battle Kraken, let alone Tiamat.”

The warrior didn’t flinch in the face of Bahamut’s blunt assessment, earning a small amount of the dragon king’s respect, even before the stocky, blonde young man spoke. “We thank you, King Bahamut, and swear to do our best to rid the world of the two remaining fiends.”

“Well said, Bearer of the Earth Crystal, but withhold your thanks—the aid we intend to render you will not be easy. In your remaining battles, you will need to be dragon-trained to have the slightest _chance_ of surviving, much less prevailing,” Bahamut replied, an unsettling, reptilian grin (one which revealed many of his six-inch-long silver fangs) on his long snout. “While your crew works to repair the airship, with the aid of some of my people, I and a few of my kin will sharpen your claws and fangs—so to speak. I will train you individually one at a time, and when you are not working with me, another in my court will spar with you. By the time your ship is rebuilt, you will be ready, mark my words.”

The four youths had the sense to look frightened, the Dragon King noted, but he detected excitement behind the fear as well—good. Perhaps there was hope for them, yet. He nodded his dismissal, and Cyril began to lead the four away, but Bahamut noticed the white mage lingering. Like his nephew had noted the night before, Bahamut sensed a bit of her sympathy for the dragons, and spoke to her gently. “Do you have a question, small one?”

“Last night,” the girl began hesitantly, hardly daring to meet his gaze, “Cyril told us about the other dragon tribe, and mentioned two groups of people—Lefeinish and Merfolk. I was just wondering what happened, and...and if there was anything that could be done for the other dragons.”

Bahamut sighed, sinking resignedly back into a crouch. “If only there was. If only I could tell you that defeating Tiamat would restore the dragons of Yahnikrum to their true selves, but alas, that is not the case. They are the poisoned hatchlings of the beasts hatched from poisoned eggs—it’s in their blood now, and even stopping the source cannot change what they have become.” Bahamut couldn’t suppress a weary sigh. “The only thing that can be done for that brood now is to grant them an end. As for their allies and ours? That is a story for another day, later in your training.”

As if sensing the Oldest of Dragons would say no more, the white-clad girl gave a small bow and turned to hurry after the others. There was a sad tenderness in the Dragon king’s eyes as he watched her go. In those times, with the stories more commonly circulated thanks to their distorted brethren, such Friends of Dragons were rare. _Truly, she has the heart of a strong white mage indeed. The Water Crystal—Our Crystal, is in good hands._

* * *

“Again—but put more of your force behind the blow! You have strength to spare: trust it to be there when you call upon it. And for Typhon’s sake, don’t just swing wildly and hope your strike will land on your target!”

Josh grunted, arms feeling like they were on fire, but he did his best to integrate Bahamut’s latest exhortation. The young warrior had been surprised to realize that the Dragon King’s training was very similar to the coaching style of Coach Roberts, back home. However, a one-on-one sparring match with a dragon is not a time to feel either nostalgic or homesick, so the observation was shelved for a later time.

After the sparring match, Bahamut returned to his dais, indicating for Josh to approach. “Before you go with Cyril, there is one more part of your training I would see to. We will hone it more in days to come, but for today, I will introduce you to the elementary tenets of white magic.”

“But sir!” the warrior protested. “I can’t use magic.”

“Not yet,” Bahamut hissed, a light of challenge gleaming deep within those dark eyes of his. “But thanks to that crystal shard—and by the time I’m through with you—you can. It’ll be for the best—that way, your red mage can focus on offense, and you can help your white mage stretch her energy and avoid exhaustion.”

Any further protest Josh had was silenced by the thought of being able to help Leslie in any way that he could. She’d been getting stronger, sure, but there were still many nights that she finished her turn on watch with a bone-tired expression that harked back too closely to the glazed look she’d had after her first run-in with exhaustion.

...Plus he didn’t think it wise to argue with the Dragon King.

* * *

“Your crystal shard will help you amplify your spells if you channel the energy through it as you cast. There are many such talismans in the world, but none will be more powerful for you than the Wind Crystal, darkened as it is.”

Matt nodded, glowing eyes narrowed as he digested the Dragon King’s words—the latest revelation in their two-hour long conversation about magic theory. “Are there specific spells it works better with or ways that I can take more advantage of its power?”

“Indeed, young scholar,” Bahamut nodded, fangs showing in a pleased smile. He’d long since dispensed with referring to Matt as a mage, instead having granted him the title that the Oldest of Dragons thought suited his inquisitive nature better. “Any spells relating to the element of wind—that is, lightning-based—will benefit the most, and of course, once the crystal is relit, its power to aid you will be doubled.”

This last tidbit didn’t excite Matt, though. The Wind Crystal would be the last they attempted to light, which meant he’d have no time to leverage the benefits of its light before they went home—if they went home.

_Not the way to think, Meyers—you are going to get yourself and Leslie home, by hell or high water!_

* * *

“If your heart is your strength, then you, my young friend, have strength to spare. The more you trust your spirit to sustain you, the more spells you will be able to cast without rest and the stronger you will be with your weapon as well.”

Leslie hesitated at the mention of physical combat, and Bahamut seemed to sense her thoughts. “It is hard for you to strike in anger with intent to kill or wound, is it not?” At her nod, the King of Dragons spread one of his wings over her small figure—a comforting gesture that dragons would often give worried hatchlings. “Then do not. Do not strike from a desire to hurt, but from one to protect—that is your strongest spell, is it not?”

“Yes,” Leslie answered at once. “It’s even more powerful than any of my healing or holy spells.”

Bahamut nodded, beaming at the small girl. “That stems from who and what you are—your heart as a white mage is to see your friends healthy and free from pain, and it is better to prevent injury before it happens than to heal it after the fact. Let that be the source of your courage, be it for a blow or a spell. If it is for the others, you will find yourself able to do much that you thought you could not. In many ways, you are the strongest of the four.”

Leslie highly doubted that, given previous precedent, but it still meant a lot to hear Bahamut say so.

* * *

“Stop comparing yourself to your comrades! You are not a weaker than the young warrior—you are a light a quick swordsman who relies on agility and speed instead of power and endurance. You are not a less potent black mage or a back-up healer—you are a red mage! You walk both sides of the line and are afraid of neither attacking nor supporting. You are not them—you are you!”

Zach grit his teeth and redoubled his efforts in the sparring match, trying harder to beat the King of Dragons than he ever had in any football practice—or game even—in his life. He knew from bitter experience that, if he gave the match less than his all, Bahamut would make him do it again and again until he collapsed, exhausted. It was like the Oldest of Dragons was taunting him, daring the ‘little mage’ to even _try_ and hurt him.

The lanky boy grew angry—the others reported Bahamut was strict in their training sessions, yes, but had shown them kindness as well. All _he_ got was harsh words, a reptilian smirk, and that ever-infuriating _“Again!”_

_He thinks my best isn’t good enough? I’ll show him good enough!_

In a sudden twist, he disengaged his sword from Bahamut’s claws and ran underneath the belly of the behemoth, whispering a protect spell as he went, in case the Dragon King decided to try to flatten him by lying down. Unsure of how long the spell would last—or how effective it would be—Zach quickly implemented a strategy he hadn’t tried since the fight with Garland: using a fire spell to coat his bade as he attacked.

This time, however, both the physical bow and the fire-spell were stronger, and just after he released both and heard Bahamut roaring, the red mage wondered if he’d just killed a dragon, and thus angered a _lot_ of fearsome reptiles. Then the smoke cleared, revealing his strike had done nothing more than break the first protective later on the obsidian-back scales, and Zach suddenly realized the roar was not one of pain, but the Dragon King’s laughter.

Zach stood still, stunned, until one of Bahamut’s claws gently reached and pulled him out from underneath the Oldest of Dragons. Now the black eyes sparked with amusement and pride both. “Now _that_—” he intoned, the laugh still coloring his voice, “—was well done!”

* * *

Two days into their training, all four were showing remarkable improvement already. That evening, Josh was walking around the underground city, taking in the sights. He eventually found himself in a less-trafficked area, and was surprised to see he was not alone—as he rounded one corner, he saw Matt of by himself, apparently drilling with his dagger.

Realizing this was his chance to check in on the team member he interacted with the least, Josh called, “Working on some homework from Bahamut, are you?” He then had to resist the urge to step back when the younger boy turned and revealed glowing yellow eyes blazing with fury.

“What do you want, Wilson?” the black mage growled, and Josh suddenly wondered if there was a stressor he’d missed—even for Matt, this seemed extreme.

“Hey, man, it’s cool. Just saw you practicing, and thought I’d make conversation. Are you alright? You seem a bit on edge.” The younger boy kept glaring at him, but the warrior wasn’t about to back down.

Eventually, most of the tension and defiance drained out of the mage’s stance. “Sorry. Guess I’m not used to people in your circle approaching out of good intent. And, no—Bahamut’s not teaching me physical combat; we’re focusing on magical theory.”

Josh felt a twinge of guilt and dread both. He’d heard other guys on the team mutter about Matt Meyers behind his back, but now he was beginning to realize they might’ve been a bit more up front with their taunts. “Sorry—didn’t mean to startle you. So, you’re just drilling on your own?”

“Yeah—trying to get to the point where I’m a little more than useless in physical combat, just in case something happens to my magic levels again. Been doing it for a few weeks, now.”

“Want some help with that?” Josh offered, not wanting to bring up the fact that those few weeks of practice hadn’t manifested in any of their battles—he got the feeling Matt already knew. “And just so you know—you’re not useless. Yeah, you need a bit of practice, but we all do—that was kind of Bahamut’s whole point.”

For a second, he was afraid he’d gone too far or said the wrong thing, assuming the hard light in the yellow orbs was an angry one, but eventually the black mage just shrugged. “Why not? Guess it couldn’t hurt.”

Not exactly a glowing endorsement, but Josh figured it was a start.

* * *

Once more, the four Warriors of Light found themselves before the dais that was Bahamut’s throne—though now, after three weeks of training, they were permitted to stand. The Oldest of Dragons looked each of his pupils in the eyes before asking in a quiet voice: “Your ship is complete, ready to sail the sky again. What of you? Are _you_ ready?”

“That’s your call to make, sir,” Zach pointed out in a casual tone. “You’d be the one to know.”

Bahamut beamed at this, his fangs flashing in an amused grin. The two had often joked in a similar manner after the red mage’s breakthrough in training. “Indeed—_that _is the right answer. And I say that you all have one more test—the test of courage at the Citadel of Trials. Also, it’s a chance for your crew to get used to that lumbering airship of yours before you try to make a proper landing in front of anyone!”

“Citadel of Trails?” Josh asked, incredulous. Zach was a little more forthcoming with his sarcasm.

“Sounds lovely. Next time, can the final exam be multiple choice?”

This quip, unfortunately, left the Dragon King with no frame of reference and was ignored as Bahamut continued with the explanations. “The Citadel of Trials is located on the northeastern continent. It was once the stronghold of our brothers, but since their fall it has become a pit of darkness and den of distorted monsters. Young hatchlings determined to prove their worth journey there and fight their way through it, bearing with them a token upon their return—a token that proves they reached the throne room and bested its current guardian. Only then are they deemed worthy to become a part of the guard or garrison.”

Matt frowned in thought. “So, as if being the subjects of a prophecy, killing two fiends,_ and_ rediscovering a long-lost airship weren’t proof enough, we now have to go to an abandoned castle and face the monsters there to prove that we’re heroes?”

Bahamut’s amused grin reminded the four very much of the one Cyril had given them when he first told them about their audience before Bahamut. “Of course not. This is to prove that you are now _better_ heroes than before you were Dragon-trained!”

* * *

Of course, Bahamut neglected to mention that, due to the tick forest and impenetrable swamp smog that blanketed the area around the Citadel, they had to land the ship over a _week’s_ journey away and walk the vast distance to their destination, fighting off constant monster attacks the whole way.

“Hasn’t that scaly-faced brute ever heard of _full disclosure?”_ Zach grumbled after what felt like the hundredth attack from creatures that appeared to be hybrids of over-sized armadillos and armor-plated ankylosaurs—beasts so common that their heads were worth practically nothing.

Josh, who was still surprised his friend could get away with saying things like that—often to the Dragon King’s face—only shrugged. “Maybe he has, and just didn’t like the idea very much.”

“He’s treating us like young dragons,” Leslie interjected from her place beside the warrior—somewhere she’d apparently grown a lot more comfortable walking. “He sees us as something a little more than hatchlings—the time in a dragon’s life where they have to come out from under their parents’ wings and sharpen their own claws. We get the training, but not the hand-holding.” At the silence that followed her observation, the white mage quailed a little.

“Wha—?” Zach began, not even really sure what to ask.

Mat rolled his eyes. “Look, Bahamut showed different sides to all of us in our training. Leslie has always liked dragon stories, so she probably got a lot of dragon culture lessons in addition to magic theory work.” Leslie nodded, confirming her brother’s theory.

“It was really fascinating!” she added quietly, unable to suppress a small smile.

Zach snorted a little. “So, Josh got a coach, Matt got a teacher, I got a prankster, and Leslie got what—a tour guide? Can’t a dragon make up his mind?”

“He did,” Leslie answered, the small smile still present. “Four times.”

Before Zach could fully process that the younger girl had actually made a _joke_, they’d arrived at the Citadel. All at once, the four moved into their fighting formation—a force of habit now, after months of traveling together—Josh took point, with Zach holding the left flank, covering his friend’s less-dominant side, Leslie followed the two closely, in the center of the formation, and Matt brought up the rear, watching their backs and ready to launch a spell over the heads of the two fighters.

Contrary to expectations, though, they were not attacked in the foyer, but were instead met by the flickering form of a ghost who spoke before any kind of spell could be launched. “More challengers to take on the Citadel? Then, when you are ready, sit on the throne to begin. Once you do, though, there will be no turning back until you have fought all the way through.” Having apparently said its piece, the ghost vanished, leaving four very confused teenagers in its wake.

Josh was the first to break the silence. “Well, I guess we go sit on the throne, now.”

“All of us?” Zach asked incredulously. Then they walked forward and saw the throne in question. “Oh, right. I forgot—_dragon_ castle.” Sure enough, it was a dais much like Bahamut’s throne, but the room in question was in no way a throne room. “I don’t get this at all, but I guess it will make more sense as we go on. Excelsior and all that.”

With nothing else that could be said, the four moved forward. As soon as they set foot on the dais, an intense flash of light blinded all four of them. There was a wrenching pull and a sense of movement, and possibly one or two shouts of surprise. When the room returned to normal, there was no sign of the Warriors of Light.

* * *

When Leslie blinked the spots from her eyes, she took a step back in a blend of abject terror and complete shock. The castle, which hadn’t seemed particularly worn-down before, was now a ruin with more shadows and rubble than structure, and all overgrown with a sick-looking type of ivy that was undoubtedly poisonous. Oh, and she was completely alone.

As her mind began to process this fact, panic threatened to overwhelm the girl, but a voice inside of her—which sounded like a combination of Bahamut and her brother—snapped at her to get herself together and think rationally. “Okay,” she whispered to herself, starting a second at how the quiet word echoed in the crumbling halls. “Okay, that was definitely a transportation spell—like the ones at the altars, or a weaker version of the one that brought us here in the first place. Conclusion? All four of us have been transported to different parts of the castle and are expected to make our way to the throne room. On our own.”

After saying the last three words aloud, she remembered Bahamut once explaining that dragons rarely fought as a unit or legion, rather as individuals all fighting side-by-side and supporting each other, only occasionally combining strength directly. “Right, so we need to prove that we’ve grown enough that we can make it through a challenge on our own. Like me—I’ve come to rely on the others to take the offensive while I just help with magic.” The realization that whatever monsters she’d encounter would be up to _her_ to deal with made her want to curl up in fear. She would have, too, except...

“And the others have come to rely on me to boost their defense, evasion, and to heal them. When they make it through, they’ll still be hurt. If I’m not there for them when they get there, who knows how long they’ll push themselves through in an injured state.”

All at once, she remembered one of her conversations with Bahamut:

_“... Let that be the source of your courage, be it for a blow or a spell. If it is for the others, you will find yourself able to do much that you thought you could not...”_

“Right. Time to test his theory.”

With equal parts determination and fear roiling together in her gut, the white-robed girl made her way methodically through the twisting passages, marking the walls as she went in case she got turned around or needed to backtrack. Fortunately, the monsters she encountered weren’t particularly strong, but they were horse-like, which she felt almost offended by—of all the things she could be possibly forced to fight, it just had to be horses, didn’t it? Each one took a couple of hammer-blows to bring down, which slowed her down big time.

That is, until a chance fortuitous find: In a chest she found a pair of gauntlets perfectly sized for her hands, inscribed with familiar looking runes...

“Th-That’s Matt’s thunder spell—the one he picked up in Elfheim.” She stared at them for a second, before slipping them on. “In know I’m not supposed to be able to form magic into an offensive construct, but I wonder what happens if I try to channel a spell through them?”

As it turned out, the answer was simpler than even that—all she had to do was point the gauntlets at an enemy and will them to shoot out lightning, and they did—no magical energy required on her part. Naturally, this made the rest of the journey a lot easier for the young girl, who soon reached a transporter pad. After a moment’s hesitation, and upon the realization that it was the only way to continue onwards, she stepped on, bracing herself for the disorienting wrench that would accompany the spell.

* * *

For his part, Zach found himself in a part of the castle that resembled the architectural style and design aesthetic of a Hindu temple, guarded by fire-breathing tigers. He quickly came to the same conclusion Leslie had—this was a solo challenge to prove he’d learned his lesson.

The difficulty for the red mage was that the creatures were strong against his strongest sell—fire—forcing him to fight physically, or with his weaker spells. This required more concentration and effort, and he was very glad he’d already faced his crystal challenge as well as Bahamut’s challenge—both had aided him in developing endurance, fortitude, and creativity. His special treasure was a sword of ice that was far heavier and better suited to his current foes than his flame-saber found in Mt. Gulg, and he happily made the switch.

Soon he, too, reached a teleport pad and after a momentary pause and analysis, Zach stepped forward, hoping he’d find the other three waiting, and not some horrible monster.

* * *

To say that the separation annoyed the party’s black mage was an understatement—how was he supposed to keep his sister safe if he wasn’t _with_ her? Matt growled under his breath as he stalked desperately through Greek-temple-like hallway after hallway, alternating blasting the medusae he encountered with lightning or stabbing them with his dagger. Though he’d never said so aloud, he’d noticed Josh’s training was paying off, and he was especially grateful at that moment for the older boy’s patient coaching.

He hesitated as the thought occurred to him. Leslie had been pushing her twin to be more charitable in his thoughts and attitudes towards their other two comrades, but at first he’d chalked it up to nothing more than a growing crush on the warrior. Yet Josh had helped him with no teasing, no judgment, and no expectation of returned favor. And during the work on the airship, Prehill had been a little less annoying than normal. And, of course, there was no denying that none of them could have come this far without any of the others.

_Well, that includes me—I’m a contributing member of this team, so I better hurry up and find them again, for those bozos would get lost every other hour._

The thought wasn’t a completely bitter one, however, and he found a light piece of armor studded with rubies that seemed to be made for mages and the teleportation pad in short order.

* * *

Josh, for his part, kept carving his way through the mud golems he encountered in the cave-like tunnels he found himself in, hoping to make it back to his team before they tore each other apart—noting it was a far cry from how he’d fed from any kind of responsibility only a few weeks prior.

His special find was a staff that allowed even him, the one non-magical person in their group, to cast a low-level healing spell. That enabled him to keep himself healthy and fighting all the way to the teleportation pad.

* * *

The four young fighters blinked the light out of their eyes as they looked around, noticing they were all reunited once more—each with a new item in hand—and were now in a part of the castle architecturally similar to the hall they first entered, though this room was new. It was dusty and cobweb-filled, but was obviously once a grand sight. In front of them was a dais taller than the first they’d stepped on, studded with jewels. _This_ was the throne room of the Citadel—of that there was no doubt.

Unfortunately, there was no chance to enjoy their victory before the four were set upon by an animated dragon skeleton. Now well-versed in fighting large undead monsters after Lich, the four moved with practiced ease. Josh took point, boosted by the Meyers twins, then Leslie started casting her holy-based spells while Zach lobbed fire spells at the behemoth, and in a few moments, it was down.

At first, there was some inclination to compare stories, but something about the silent halls had an effect on the teens, and in looking at eah other, they realized it didn’t really matter. They’d survived, not because they experience had changed them, but because all the other things they’d been through together had.

Zach looked around, noting the carcass of an unfortunate rat who’d apparently gotten too close to the battle and been half-roasted by one of Zach’s spells. “Did any of you notice any life forms other than monsters in any of the hall you went through?” The others mutely shook their head, and Zach’s now-familiar ‘troublemaker look’ crossed his face, and the icy saber carved an arc and lopped off the rodent’s tail. “Bahamut never said what token it had to be—and this _does_ prove we made it here.”

Leslie opened her mouth, afraid of how such a gesture would offend the kind Dragon King she’d trained with, then closed it, remembering that Zach had been allowed to see the Oldest of Dragon’s sense of humor. He’d know better than any of them just how far their scaly mentor could be pushed.

* * *

Bahamut’s impressive silver fangs flashed in the torchlight as he beheld his latest pupils—and their unorthodox trophy. “You have proven yourself to be True Dragons indeed—uncowed even by me! I therefore will bestow upon you a gift only a true king—of the humans, dwarves, elves, Lefeinish, merfolk, or dragons may. Your natural skills made you what you are: a warrior, red mage, white mage, and black mage. My blessing will now boost those talents, and grant you titles few achieve: Knight, Red Wizard, White Wizard, and Black Wizard. And as you now promise to continue your quest to bring destruction to our ancient foe, Kraken, avenging the loss of the Merfolk, I grant you another title yet; bear it well: Friends of Dragons.”


	14. Under the Sea

_“We what the land folks like to cook—under the sea we off the hook! We got no troubles; life is the bubbles under the sea!” (“Under the Sea”,_ Little Mermaid)

* * *

After the ceremony, the four questors were allowed to spend the night in Cyril’s cave one last time. They were surprised to find that their blue-scaled host had some changes of armor for them that would reflect their new status: Josh had silver armor, a cape, and an odd-looking helmet now, Zach was given an enchanted silver breastplate to go with his cap-and-cape ensemble, Leslie’s hooded robe was replaced with a white dress with red trimming, but no hood, leaving her dark hair exposed for the first time in that new world, and, while Matt still had his void-inducing pointed straw hat, his loose blue robe was replaced with a tunic-and-outer-cloak ensemble edged in yellow and gold.

“These are the traditional marks of your new offices, and we trust that you will bear them well. My uncle, the King of Dragons, wanted me to tell you what we dragons know of the Fiend you will be facing next.”

At that, all four questors instantly became attentive as the dragon continued.

“As well you know, our brethren suffered mightily the effects of Tiamat’s rise, and when it became clear to our allies, the merfolk, that Kraken intended to seize the Water Crystal, which was located on the first floor of their palace, the Floating Shrine, they took great pains to ensure that the dragons who dwelt with them at that time would be spared a similar fate.” Cyril sighed wearily. “Those alive at the time tried to assure the merfolk that our peoples battling together could defeat the Fiend of Water, but the guardians of the sea remembered Kraken’s rage all too well, and chose to sink their palace beneath the waves and force their allies to take up a new home rather than to have both tribes utterly destroyed. Since the day the Floating Shrine became the Sunken Shrine, only a handful of Merfolk have been seen—for all we know, they are the sole survivors of the Fiend of Water’s rage.”

All four felt a rush of sympathy for and indignation on behalf of the dragons and their allies, but it was Zach who noticed one crucial detail.

“Wait—if the merfolk sunk the shrine, it’s now underwater—yes? And the reason you dragons couldn’t stay is that you can’t breathe underwater?” At Cyril’s nod, the red wizard turned to his friends. “Guys, I hope one of you knows a spell for breathing underwater—‘cause I sure don’t!”

Cyril titled his head, seeming to consider the problem. “One of the few Mermaids to escape has made a new home in the coastal town of Onrac. She’d been one of their foremost scholars, and may have an answer to the problem. I’d speak with her first, if I were you.”

Leslie frowned. “If she’s a Mermaid, how can she survive on land?”

“Mermaids may assume a human form at will—though not many know this fact among your peoples.”

That was pretty much the end of that conversation, all though Zach was heard to mutter: “Well, _that_ would have made Ariel’s movie a good deal shorter.”

* * *

Despite not having a name to ask for, the mermaid Cyril spoke of (one Aeliana) was surprisingly easy for the young heroes to find. And she _was_ working on a way to transport heroes from the surface to what remained of the shrine. The submarine was definitely rudimentary and reminiscent of designs from the American Revolution, but it _was_ watertight and simple to control. There was just one problem...

“...you run out of oxygen after going a few yards below the surface.”

Zach blinked at the pink-haired girl’s blunt words. “Th-that would be a major problem. Do you happen to have a working theory to get around it, maybe?”

“Well, I _did_,” Aeliana huffed in exasperation, “but I haven’t been able to test it because I can’t get anyone to take me to the North Eastern continent—the town of Gaia, specifically.”

“What’s in Gaia?” Leslie asked.

“The one spring in the world that produces Oxyale—a type of water that generates air continuously—and the one fairy who can actually fetch it! I even have an idea of how to make it possible for a land dweller to traverse the Shrine without drowning, but it all relies on Oxyale, and I can’t get my hands on any!”

The last few words were all but shouted in a (very) dramatic wail, and it took all of Josh’s effort not to grit his teeth in pain at the assault on his ears. “Tell you what—let me and my friends see what we can do about getting you some of that Oxyale, and then we can talk about borrowing your submarine for a bit. Sound good?”

* * *

Apparently, it did, and they found themselves making the two-day trip to a _very_ remote mountain village—only to find that the fairy had disappeared mysteriously a week before. There were, at least, gear and magic upgrades available, but Leslie pointed out it would still be a wasted trip if they couldn’t get the Oxyale.

Hoping for inspiration, they began to walk towards the fairy’s spring, only to encounter an extremely drunk sailor along the way. Josh and Matt both instinctively stepped between the newcomer and Leslie, leaving the two of them standing as close to shoulder-to-shoulder as their different heights would allow. It ended up not being necessary, as the fellow seemed to be concerned only with defending himself and choices—though whether to them or figments visible only through a drunken haze was a matter for some debate.

“I caught the fairy so *hic* I figger, she’s mine to do with as I *hic* please. So what if I *hic* sold her to the desert caravan? *hic!* Mebbe she’ll like the *hic* North Western continent *hic* better!”

All four deflated: all elation at the mention of the fairy evaporated in light of a necessary back-track.

“Just great,” Zach muttered that night at the inn, “another fetch quest.”

* * *

If the trip into the desert wasn’t bad enough—because, of course, the airship couldn’t land in the desert—the price tag for one bottled fairy was on the exorbitant side.

“Why on earth would anyone pay that much for a single pixie?” asked Zach, the team’s designated negotiator.

The merchant merely shrugged, apparently unfazed. “If you haven’t noticed—the monsters here are worthless. If I’m going to get enough gil to retire permanently, I need an alternative to monster hunting. You obviously need this fairy, so it’s a seller’s market.”

Zach winced, muttering to the others, “He’s got a point. I don’t know if I’ve got any kind of angle on him to talk the price down...”

“Let me try something...” Josh muttered, striding back to the other man—who he conveniently towered over, imposing in his new armor and cape—dusty though they were. “I could threaten you,” the knight pointed out in a low, matter-of-fact tone. “I could—and I could carry it out too, without a twinge from my conscience. But I’m going to choose not to—do you want to know why?”

There is power in the meeting of a quiet voice and a strong presence, and the unfortunate merchant nodded mutely.

“Because the Fiends are real—and they’re the real threat. You’ve been a monster hunter: you’ve seen how monsters are getting stronger. That’s not going to stop; in fact, it’s just going to get worse. At least you won’t have to worry about living in a desert after Kraken floods the whole continent. And all because you held out on a price for one little fairy...”

The merchant shifted uncomfortably. “Fine: half-price. But no refunds if Kraken kills you!”

* * *

Backtracking once more, the four ended up back in Gaia. Zach was grumbling under his breath, half-expecting to be sent halfway around the globe for a ‘surprise’ ingredient for the Oxyale. So it was with some surprise that the red wizard watched the fairy give them a bottle of the magical water out of gratitude for her rescue—no strings or fetch-quests attached.

“It can’t be that simple—there’s got to be a catch,” he pointed out darkly.

“Of course there is,” Matt chimed in nonchalantly. “Now, we have to fight Kraken.”

* * *

It two days to make it back to Onrac—and another three days for Aeliana to troubleshoot her breathing solution with the help of Zach and Matt. But finally—_finally_ they were ready to invade the Sunken Shrine and fight Kraken in his home turf...

...Somehow, that didn’t feel like a bright side.

* * *

The submarine silently sank beneath the depths, carrying the four ever closer to the next part of their quest. When the shrine at last appeared through the gloom, they leaned forward, taking in the once-grand, four-story temple. The fourth floor had large windows and an open ceiling, probably for when the dragons could freely come and go, but a dark barrier flickered around every opening—clearly some kind of magical force field. The third floor, however, had an unblocked opening that looked suspiciously like something had exploded in that area, and they had their way in.

It took fighting all instincts to trust Aeliana’s spell and try to breath underwater, but the mermaid’s design (along with Matt and Zach’s adjustment) worked indeed, and speech was even possible, though their voices were blurred and distorted, strange even to their own ears. Thus, none of them spoke much as they traversed the now-ruined and deserted halls, silent even as they fought the sea monsters that dared to attack the Warriors of Light.

That left Leslie time to think...too much time. She knew it was her crystal—her new affinity for water and her shard’s blue tint both stood as testament to that fact—but she was terrified to even try to picture what she’d have to do to prove herself and light the Water Crystal, or what it would take to defeat. Kraken.

_Don’t worry about that...Bahamut’s training has made us stronger than we ever were._

The thought of the Dragon King made her look around at the halls in a different light: this was where Merfolk and Dragons once lived together, but their home had been torn from them—from both tribes. The quiet girl found it hard to hate, but she came close to it in that moment, when she saw what once was that had been taken from those she considered friends. She just hoped her anger would be enough when the time came to fight Kraken.

* * *

Out of sheer curiosity, they went up to the fourth floor before trying to go down, and Josh blinked in surprise when they found out what had been locked behind the dark barrier—the surviving Merfolk!

They fish-tailed humanoids seemed terrified of the four teens at first, but Leslie stepped forward and began to speak in a calming tone, explaining that they had come from Bahamut to fight Kraken and free the Merfolk. 

She was incredible, the knight thought. He’d been surprised, after her change of clothing, at how insecure she seemed about her figure and hair, now that they were visible again. He’d wanted to tell her she was fine—beautiful, even—but was afraid of how shallow it would make him sound, or how her brother would take it. Still, the way she calmed down the Merfolk, who then showed them to several treasures that would aid in the battle against Kraken, or the way her dark hair floated behind her in the water, caught by the little amount of light that filtered down from the surface...

...If only he had the guts to tell her.

* * *

After promising the Merfolk that they would return once the Fiend of Water was defeated, the four teens backtracked and headed down to the second level. They were getting closer to the ‘moment of truth’ and Leslie thought about what Lukahn had told them—that the trip through each Fiend’s lair, or the battle with the Fiend themselves would challenge the special trait in the crystal bearer—and about the final two lines on her poem, the Water Prophecy.

_Courage will shine its light,  
_ _And open homeward gates._

_Courage—me? I’m so scared and shy that I’d rather be lonely and unknown for all of high school rather than approach anybody!_

* * *

On the first floor, Leslie was startled from her private thoughts as Zach suddenly turned t her. “Hey Leslie—what’s your word, anyway?”

“My what?”

The red wizard just shrugged. “You know—your word. In the poem, prophecy, or whatever. Josh’s was leadership, mine was fortitude. What’s yours?”

Without really being able to enunciate why, Leslie felt trapped, but could find no reason to give anything other than an honest answer.

“Courage.” She winced internally as the others exchanged glances. Of course Matt knew already, but she hadn’t told the two football players. Now they knew—and they’d know that she’d doom their whole quest.

To her shock, they beamed at her. “That should be no problem, then!” Zach said with a grin.

“Yeah!” Josh agreed. “For once, one of us actually fits their word!”

She wished she could share their optimism.

* * *

All too soon, they reached Kraken’s crystal chamber—complete with crude altar and darkened, once-blue crystal. But between the Warriors of Light and said crystal was a hulking, vaguely squid-like creature covered in blue scales, wearing a purple, fin-shaped cape, and baring shark fangs. Kraken was a combination of the all the most vicious denizens of the deep, and he was not happy to see the intruders.

“Land dwellers taking on the lord of the deep? You’re nothing but fish food waiting to happen!”

“We’ll see about that, squid lips—Bahamut sends his regards!” Zach shouted as he charged forward, blade of ice swinging over his head. Josh was at his side in a moment, ready to mirror his opening strike.

As the Meyers twins cast their customary boosting spells, Kraken moved to intercept the fighters, using his many tentacles to separate and force the two boys away from each other. Now they were unable to watch each other’s back or defend each other, and Kraken seemed more than capable of attacking both at the same time. Leslie felt panic set in when she saw the heavy hits both were taking.

“Matt!” she called desperately to her brother, feeling a pang of relief as the younger twin took in the situation, the yellow light of his eyes hardening.

He seized his own darkened crystal shard in one hand and threw the other towards Kraken as he shouted out the words of his newest spell—the strongest lightning spell there was. Fortunately, the blast did a relatively significant amount of damage and served to divert their foe’s attention away from the badly injured boys. Unfortunately, it focused Kraken’s attention on the two wizards.

Before Leslie could heal their stronger companions or Matt could dodge, Kraken lashed out with one of his tentacles. Because the attack was mainly directed at her brother, Leslie received only a glancing blow, but even then, she was doubled over in pain for a second. Matt wasn’t so lucky—he received a direct tentacle-punch to the gut that slammed him into one of the remaining support pillars with a sickening _crack!_

When the white wizard lifted her head, she saw all three boys floating limply about the room, and for one terrified moment, she thought they were dead—but no, she could sense their pain and injuries still. As terrible it was, at least it meant they were still alive, if only for the moment.

As for their foe, his quick and brutal attack slowed when he noticed the lone hero left facing him, an expression of amusement flitting across his twisted face. “The Bearer of the Water Crystal—a white wizard? I’m almost insulted! You’re no fighter, so how can you hope to defeat me on your own?”

She couldn’t—Leslie knew that much. She had to revive the others as soon as possible, and not just to fight Kraken, but to save their life: each was dangerously close to dying. Her normal cure spells wouldn’t cut it—but her newest spell was supposed to revive the near-dead to a half-healed condition. It wouldn’t be ideal, but it would work. There was just one problem—the wizard who taught her the spell was adamant that one could only cast the spell once before passing out. Now she needed to cast it _three_ times over.

It was like Kraken could read her mind. “Want to revive one of your little friends for their help? By all means—but who do you chose? Which two will die because you weren’t strong enough to save them—and you didn’t protect them well enough in the first place? Who will you kill?” Leslie shook her head mutely, horror-stricken at the thought, and the fiend pressed on, enjoying the mind game.

“Oh, ho! I wish I could’ve seen Bahamut’s face as he tried to train you, a weak little girl trying to throw spells around to make everyone better—how disappointed he must’ve been; how much he must have despaired for the Water Crystal and his beloved merfolk!”

That wasn’t right—Bahamut had always treated her kindly; he’d been downright warm and seemed to believe more in her than she did herself!

“You rely on your friends for strength, so what are you without them? Nothing but a weak coward!”

All at once, as if the thought of the Oldest of Dragons had hammered his lesson into her mind one last time, Leslie understood what he’d been trying to tell her.

“You’re wrong,” she said simply, voice level though it was changed by the water—sounding older, stronger. “You’re wrong,” she repeated, louder this time. “My friends aren’t my strength—they’re my reason to be strong. The strength of a white mage—or wizard—is their heart, and their desire to protect others. These three are all I have in this world, so when they need me to come through, I can do anything—even the impossible.”

With that, she rattled off the same spell three times in rapid-succession: the revive spell. The weariness didn’t hit her until after the final casting, but when it did, it almost made her pass out.

_No! Not yet—I’m not done!_

She followed those up with a healing spell to restore the other three to full health, but even as they charged forward again, trying to keep Kraken off of her, she knew they’d only fall again if something wasn’t different this time. Mustering up what little strength was left in her body, she faced Kraken squarely, floating in front of his face. “We are done here.”

With determination but no hatred, Leslie slammed her hammer into his face, stunning him just as Matt struck again with his lightning and Josh and Zach landed coordinated blows on the bulbous body. The last thing the girl saw before slipping into unconsciousness was the lifeless carcass of the Fiend of Water slowly sinking, disappearing through a dark crevice in the floor.

* * *

“Leslie!”

“She’s definitely still breathing—and breathing evenly too.”

“Leslie!”

“I think she’s stirring—maybe whatever the Merfolk did actually worked!”

“Come on Leslie, wake up!”

Slowly, Leslie opened hazel eyes to see her brother kneeling over her, a concerned light in his yellow eyes. He’d been the one calling her name—and the last to speak. When he saw her trying to sit up, he grabbed her in a bone-crushing hug, which startled her for a moment. Matt was never one to initiate physical contact, and any display of affection, however sincere, was normally stilted and a little awkward.

As she returned his embrace, she saw Josh and Zach hovering worriedly only a few feet away. Well—Josh looked worried. Zach seemed to be in shock.

“How—” he managed at last. “How did you do that? All four of those spells? That should’ve been impossible—trying to cast the second one alone should’ve killed you!”

Josh winced at his friend’s observation. “She’s the strongest of us all,” he offered by way of explanation. “The Merfolk wanted to pass along their thanks, but after they did—whatever that was—to help you recover, they said they had to see about repairs. They may not be able to bring it to the surface, but they want this place to look more like it used to.” His tone and words were matter of fact, but there was genuine fear for her safety in his eyes, and Leslie wanted to reassure them all that she truly was fine.

“I didn’t mean to scare you guys,” she managed at last.

Matt finally broke away, pulling away to examine her face, as though searching for an injury. Leslie received her explanation when Zach spoke up again.

“You—” he faltered to a halt, then tried again. “You just managed to cast the mother lode of magic spells—saving our lives in the process—_and_ kill the Fiend of Water with a wicked hammer-blow, and you’re _apologizing_? Geez, girl—think of yourself for once!”

“But I’m alright now,” Leslie replied, vaguely confused and ignoring her raging migraine—the one lingering symptom of her burnout, besides a desire for a ten-year nap.

The three boys realized no reply could explain their reaction to the white wizard, but they couldn’t help regarding her with a new and profound respect. Then Leslie carefully moved her brother’s hands from her shoulders and tried to stand, causing all three boys to step forward, but she held up a hand, halting them mid-protest.

“The crystal,” she whispered by way of explanation. “I have to do this alone, I think.”

Josh and Zach reluctantly nodded, remembering their own experiences, and Matt glowered, but remained silent, gaze fixed intently on his sister. If she so much as wavered he was going to insist they high-tail back to the submarine and take care of the crystal the next day—or week.

For her part, and though she’d never say it aloud, Leslie was grateful for being underwater. She let the water bear her weight, and practically swam over to the altar, slipping her own shard from around her neck as she advanced, putting it beneath its larger cousin, right on type of the Water Prophecy:

_Darkness threatens all;  
_ _Your destiny awaits.  
_ _Courage will shine its light,  
_ _And open homeward gates._

“What’s happened to me?” Leslie whispered. “I never could do anything like that at home—and I don’t mean the magic. I mean that moment where I wasn’t afraid of what happened to me so long as I got the job done. At school I’m too scared to make friends, let alone defend them.”

_“I think you have it wrong, my dear. You’ve misunderstood what courage was all along.”_

The voice that gave her the reply she hadn’t been expecting was undeniably ancient and gentle, but lively—a small stream burbling over rocks—and Leslie felt instantly she could trust it. “What do you mean?”

_“Courage isn’t—never was—about a lack of fear, but about continuing on in spite of it. Anyone can, but not many do. Like the way you used to be, they let their fear rule them, root them to the spot. Others are able to push though and conquer fear. But a precious few of those—often those who feared the most—find that they are not only able to go on in spite of fear, but find a deep well of strength previously hidden behind it. These are the gentle-strong—those who protect the weak because they once were.”_

It seemed preposterous, but the events of the last battle alone stood as testament the voice’s truth, along with the advice Lukahn and Undar had given her. Then she thought of all the times she’d pushed herself to the brink of exhaustion healing and protecting the others, only to find strength and determination left within her. Like a movie playing in her head, the scenes flashed, culmination in her explanation to Josh all those weeks before: _“I’m a healer—that’s my job... If I’m going to pull my weight on this team, tiredness is the price I’ve got to pay...”_

“And you think I’m one of those ‘gentle-strong?’” 

_“Let us say that I know you are—and you are just beginning to know it yourself. Just know that if—when—you return home, you can bring a little of the white wizard back with you.”_

“The caring—you mean?”

_“The caring that is your courage—and strength. If you embrace that, you will unlock more potential than you can even begin to imagine—and relight the Water Crystal.”_

Leslie closed her eyes for a second, but she knew the answer she was already coming to.

“I will.”

After a heartbeat, the Water Crystal and Leslie’s shard flickered to life with an aquamarine light. The glyphs behind the altar lit up as well, and the four heroes carefully made their way over to them, vanishing to the surface in a brilliant flash of the same aquamarine light. None were there to hear the same voice’s parting words:

_“Good luck, Bearer of the Water Crystal_. _May your journey take you to a better destination than mine._


	15. Gone With the Wind

_“Now you are beginning to think for yourself instead of letting others think for you. That’s the beginning of wisdom.” (Margaret Mitchell,_ Gone With the Wind_)_

* * *

When the four arrived back on the docks in Onrac, they found Aeliana was not the only one waiting for them. Beside the pink-haired Mermaid was a familiar, azure-skinned, serpentine figure—who looked even bigger when seen outside the caverns and tunnels that were his home city.

Cyril seemed proud—excited even—but it changed to worry when he saw Leslie stumble, only to be caught by her brother. “What ails her—will she be alright?” the dragon asked, his raspy voice edged thickly with concern.

“Magical exhaustion,” Matt answered brusquely. “And she will—if she stops being stubborn and actually rests!”

“I’ll be fine!” Leslie insisted, convincing no one.

Cyril intervened before a true sibling argument could erupt. “You all could use some rest. Perhaps we could all sit here while you tell me what happened beneath the waves?”

“Tell _us_,” Aeliana muttered, but it was the only protest.

For the most part, it was Josh and Zach doing most of the talking as they all sat in the shade of Cyril’s half-open wings, though since all three boys had been unconscious for the major part of the battle against Kraken, Leslie did have to narrate that part of the story. When she finished—ending with the death of Kraken, since the glowing shard around her neck was testament to what followed—silence fell for a bit as the two who had not been there tried to take in what the four teens had experienced in a world not meant for humans.

It was Aeliana who broke the silence. “I’ll let Cyril tell you the news he came to tell,” she said, with a sideways look at the dragon beside them, “but you will _not_ be leaving Onrac for at least three days—you won’t be doing the world any good if you collapse three steps from the city walls!” For a Mermaid, she was surprisingly intimidating, and all four nodded their agreement, already turning to the dragon.

“The news comes from one of our scouts. Since you left the islands, the Dragon King has had us searching for a way for the four of you to reach Tiamat in her lair, the Flying Fortress. We have found two things that may aid you—a remnant village of surviving Lefeinians, and, less than a fortnight ago, something fell from the Flying Fortress and landed behind the waterfall near here. It seemed to be one of the mechanical creatures originally built by the Lefeinians. We thought them destroyed, but it seems at least one escaped. It may have information that could aid your quest.”

“We’ll definitely have to check that out!” Zach broke in. Then, after seeing Aeliana’s glare, he amended, “After we take a few days for R&R, of course...”

* * *

Actually, it was closer to a week later before Leslie was recovered enough for the group to take their canoe upriver and explore the cave behind the waterfall, but finally there they were.

It was an oppressive atmosphere, to say the least—cold, damp, dark, and crawling with monsters—and it wore on all four. “Why are we even here?” Zach grumbled, not for the first time. “Why aren’t we looking up that village that Cyril told us about?”

“Well, I don’t know, but that language barrier Aeliana pointed out could be a bit of a problem!” Matt shot back.

Leslie bristled at the rising tension, which was not diffused by Zach’s reply: “I _told_ you—one of those artifacts we picked up in the shrine is the one that guy from Melmond said he needed to translate Lefeinian—”

“That’s it!” Leslie snapped, quickly throwing a silence spell on both boys. “I am sick and tired of you two throwing potshots at each other! We’re a team, so start acting like one before I take more drastic steps to maintain peace. Got it?”

All three boys nodded mutely—two of them had no choice, but they wouldn’t have said anything anyway.

“Good. Now let’s find that robot and _then_ we’ll learn the language and go to that village.”

* * *

A little further on they _did_ find the robot, who handed them a strange device he called a ‘warp cube’ explaining that it would take them from the top floor of Mirage Tower onto the Flying Fortress.

“Where is the tower?” Josh asked.

“Yahnikrum Desert—the very center. But to enter you need a chime of Lefeinia. A descendent of those who built me and my brothers might have one.”

It was to the red wizard’s credit that he held his tongue until they were back in Onrac. “So, we should take a quick trip to Melmond to learn a new language, then?”

* * *

When they made it back to Melmond, Zach was the only one not surprised to see the village reconstruction program had stagnated shortly after their departure for Crescent Lake. Now the others could see what he’d known for a long time—the side of the village that’d been on display was not the way things normally progress. Nobody commented on the fact, but Zach felt his friends’ questioning gaze on his back, silently asking him why he wasn’t surprised—had he known? If he had, why hadn’t he said anything?

There wasn’t much time to comment or wonder, however, as they entered under the tutelage of Dr. Unne in an attempt to learn the Lefeinian language. It was a difficult undertaking but Zach still found time to give his best friend a suggestion unrelated to their lessons.

“Hey Josh, if you get some free time in the evenings, I think it would be a good idea to take Nathan aside. He really looks up to you, so if you showed him some ropes, you might be able to set him on the right track.”

Josh seemed surprised by the suggestion, but at least he agreed to try. Their stay in Melmond may be extended, but at least it was going to be worth it—in more ways than one.

* * *

It took a while, and they were still rank beginners, but a sense of urgency led them to leave Melmond after a month to search out the village that Cyril had told them about. True to the dragon-scout’s word, it was nearly impossible to spot from the air, and the only clear landing spot was a three-days-walk through thick forest away. They did make it however, and found themselves on the receiving end of a warm welcome.

The fantastic quality of Lefeinian spells had the Meyers siblings begging for a few days of monster hunting in and around the village, pointing out that it only made sense to go into their final battle well-prepared. Zach, however, was disappointed to learn that, while a red mage or wizard could attempt many spells in both fields, the ultimate white and black spells were beyond his reach, including those of Lefeinian origin.

Their last night in town, they were approached by the village elder. Their grasp of the language was still on the weak side, but he eventually was able to communicate to them the location of the tower and the secret of its access—the door would only open at the sound of a magic bell, which the village gladly provided them. He wished them well in their endeavor, and while the whole place seemed excited at the thought of their foe being finally defeated, Leslie sensed sadness, and guessed that it extended form the fact that their allies, the dragons of the desert, could not be restored to what they once were. 

Tiamat had much to answer for.

* * *

The trip through the desert was exhausting and annoying, and there was no way to get the sand out of clothes, armor and traveling packs. By the time the four teens reached the door of the tower, they’d all resigned themselves for the most uncomfortable confrontation of a Fiend yet.

They stood before the door to the tower, shoulder-to-shoulder, and Matt rang the bell the elder had given them. As the door creaked ponderously open, a gust of strong wind blew out from behind it, carrying the smell of storm clouds and ozone, blowing every particle of sand from their persons.

“Hm—handy,” Zach muttered, trying to cover his surprise as they entered the tower.

The first floor was two rooms—an outer ring that went all the way around and an inner room that held treasure chests and the stairs to the next level. Between them and their goal, however, were mechanical monsters of Lefeinian design that had apparently been turned by close proximity to Tiamat’s lair, or else reprogrammed by some of her more intelligent minions.

The robots were hard-shelled heavy-hitters that would keep attacking until completely destroyed. “Yeesh!” Zach yelped after a particularly trying battle with no less than three of the automatons. “Credit where credit is due—Lefeinian technology is wicked strong!”

“We know—we know! You said that the last two times!” Matt snapped, before shooting a guilty look at Leslie, a part of him wondering just what the ‘more drastic steps’ she’d threatened the two of them were. The white mage didn’t attack, cast a spell, or even speak, but her glare made it clear—one more argument and they’d regret it.

But the robotic distortions were not their biggest surprise, nor were they the greatest challenge. For the first time since Pravoka, the Warriors of Light found themselves facing _human_ opponents—mercenaries and defectors from their individual crowns and cities who then took treason a step forward, betraying the entire human race by siding with the Fiend of Wind.

What made it worse than the fight against Bikke’s pirates, however, was the fact that these ‘black knights’ did not give them the option of disarming and disabling them. To the young heroes’ dismay, each of the fights was a kill-or-be-killed situation. The first time they had to dispatch another person, Leslie collapsed much like she had after their very first fight.

Josh knelt beside the white wizard, putting an arm around her shoulder and speaking in a low, gentle tone. “Les, they didn’t give us a choice. It’s not wrong to feel terrible for taking another human life, but we can’t let them kill or hurt us. We have to protect each other.”

“I don’t know if I can do this—how can we get used to this?”

“Don’t.” The two looked up to see a black wizard hovering nearby. “Don’t ever get used to killing. We need to stay the good guys, and that means regretting every life we have to take.”

* * *

Things didn’t get any easier on the second floor, but one of the chests _did_ have a truly rare object—a decent weapon for Leslie. This hammer had a Nordic-inspired design and crackled with electricity, promising to pack a much bigger punch than the weapon she’d carried for more than half their journey, now.

She hefted it experimentally before nodding her approval. As if having an afterthought, she turned to the other two wizards, fingering the handle threateningly. “Let us say that now you _really_ should think before starting another pointless insult battle,” she said with a sweet smile, leaving the two boys to attempt to decide just how serious she was.

_This could be fun!_

* * *

On the third floor of the tower, they discovered one of the Lefeinian Robots waiting for them next to an utterly incomprehensible—but undeniably sophisticated—instrument panel. All held their weapons at the ready, then the machine spoke.

“If you have the warp cube, then you come to defeat Tiamat. Please do so—restore this place to the domain of my creators. If you step aboard the warp panel, I will send you to the Flying Fortress.”

Zach eyed the blinking lights, buttons marked in a language they could speak but not read, and frowned dubiously. “Is it safe?” he asked, meaning the transportation, but the literal-minded construct misunderstood.

“I am afraid not—the Fiend of Wind will undoubtedly marshal her forces to meet you as soon as you set foot into her lair proper. Those you have encountered so far are nothing more than her least powerful lackeys. I am sorry, but there is no other way. Do you wish to turn back?”

“Hell, I _wish_ we’d never come here in the first place, but we don’t have choice but to go on—now do we?” the red wizard mumbled.

“Nope,” the knight answered, taking the lead as all four stepped aboard the platform.

The mechanical marvel turned to the panel and, in a few moments, he was the only living thing in the room. “Please—defeat Tiamat.”

* * *

There really wasn’t a question as to whose crystal was next—there was only one left for crying out loud! Matt couldn’t help wondering if the glyphs behind the altar would take them straight home this time, or if they would have to go back to Lukahn first.

He wondered just what he would have to do to light the crystal—how Tiamat or this place would test him—he wondered if he’d be strong enough to come through.

He wondered what was meant in his poem by ‘loyalty’, and how far that loyalty was supposed to extend. He was definitely loyal to his family, and would do anything in his ability to protect his sister and get her back home, but would that be enough?

He wondered just who he was expected to be loyal to: his team—their quest—the whole world?

He wondered how these prophecies were supposed to make sense...

...He wondered.

* * *

Progress was slow in the building above the stars, as every room had to be individually searched, and each were so far way. Then, of course, were the empty rooms with the ambushes—mainly made of twisted dragons.

So, it was to some surprise when they entered one room that had no enemies in sight—seemingly empty save for an odd, silvery metal in one corner. Josh frowned at it. “I saw something like that in the dwarf mountain—Smyth showed me a sword whose spine was made of it—called it adamantite and complained he never could find enough for a whole sword. It’s supposed to be the best kind of metal for weapon-forging. Might as well pick some up—if we get a chance, we could bring him some.”

Without another word, the knight jogged forward towards the raw metal, only to be halted by a shout from the team’s black wizard: “Wilson! Stop!”

Josh halted just in time, as a strong bolt of lightning shot by his ear, lancing across a previously unseen ripple in the air. An utterly inhuman scream issued from the air itself, but a second spell from Matt cut it off, followed by a strong blast of wind that smelled of a summer thunderstorm.

“What was—?” Josh started to ask, still dazed and surprised by the speed at which the fight had occurred.

“Wind elemental,” Matt responded matter-of-factly, crossing to the adamantite and handing the metal off to the knight. “Read up on them in Lefeinia. They’re so dangerous because they’re the hardest to see. Practically invisible and almost impossible to detect.”

Josh was still surprised by the youngest fighter’s quick reaction speed. “Thanks for the bail-out, man.”

Matt just shrugged. “That’s what a team does, Wilson.”

* * *

On the third level, they were met by another Lefeinian machine standing beside an odd-looking glass panel. “This window looks out upon the world below and shows you the magical energy flowing there. Would you like to look?”

“Uh, sure,” Zach mumbled, not wanting to insult or offend the robot. It hadn’t made it clear whether or not it was on Tiamat’s side or not, but since it was so rare that one of the automatons didn’t immediately start to attack or scream ‘Intruders! Intruders!’ the red wizard decided not to break the uneasy peace.

As Zach stepped up to look through the panel, he overheard an odd conversation between the Meyers twins.

“Uh, can you go ahead, Matt? Let me know if it’s Empire State Building or Grand Canyon Overlook?”

“Yeah, no problem, Leslie.” There was a pause as the black wizard peered down. “Neither. Honestly, it’s more like Niagara. You’ll be fine.”

Apparently reassured by whatever her brother meant, the young girl stepped up to join the rest of the team. At first, nobody spoke. Finally, Josh did. “Those tendrils—those don’t look good.”

“No kidding,” Zach affirmed. “And is it just me, or are they coming from all the places we’ve fought fiends? Even here?”

“It’s not just you,” Matt confirmed.

His sister took up the thread of conversation. “But what do they mean? What are they?”

Josh grunted, obviously unhappy. “And the huge elephant in the room—is it going to be our problem?”

There was no answer to that, not even from the mechanical construct. Finally, Zach broke the uncomfortable silence. “Well, if we don’t get instantly transported home after Meyers relights the Wind Crystal, we might need to ask Lukahn about it. But let’s not freak out about it until after this fight.”

The others agreed silently, but each knew there was no way to leave what they had just seen behind, even though they didn’t understand it.

* * *

After their first encounter with the Wind Elementals, the group tried to keep on the lookout for the silent, invisible killers, but only Matt had anything like consistent success at spotting them before the attack began. This put added pressure on the younger boy, but at least it was a welcome distraction from the thought of his rapidly approaching crystal.

On the floor above the viewing window, Matt momentarily froze when he spotted a tell-tale ripple in the air, just behind Zach. How had he missed it getting so close? Reacting instinctively, Matt surged forward and cannoned into the lanky football player as he launched a thunder-spell into the elemental.

Even as the spell landed, the Wind Elemental slammed into the smaller wizard with a sucker-punch of wind, and both cried out in pain at the same moment. Zach, who’d stumbled off-balance after Matt’s first tackle, spun on his heel, launching a fireball in the direction of the scream, and was rewarded by the now-familiar smell of a dead Wind Elemental, but his attention was focused on the boy behind him, lying awkwardly on the ground, hands instinctively clasped to probably-broken ribs.

“Meyers!” he yelped in surprise, automatically kneeling by the younger wizard. He didn’t bother asking if Matt was okay, as he obviously wasn’t. Leslie was already running over to the two of them, but the red wizard acted first, casting one of the healing spells he had learned, then giving Matt a hand to help him stand up.

“That better, Meyers?” Zach asked now that the other boy was on his feet.

Those glowing yellow orbs were fixed on the ground, not meeting Zach’s light blue eyes. “Yeah—I’m fine, now. Thanks.”

Zach, for once, didn’t have a smart remark. “It’s the least I could do. Like you said, man—it’s what a team does.”

* * *

By the time they got to the top level of the Flying Fortress, Mat could tell that his sister was getting nervous. Not because of the coming battle, but because she had an odd relationship with heights. So long as whatever she stood on looked and felt solid, she was fine, but glass floors and walls over extreme heights deeply unsettled her. As they arrived at the door of the room that was sure to hold the crystal and the fined, Matt subtly laid a hand on her shoulder.

“It’ll be alright,” he whispered so that the others couldn’t overhear. “Just concentrate on the battle and remember that I’ve got your back.”

“I know,” she whispered back, “you always do.”

There was no more time for talk after that, as Josh and Zach broke the door open, revealing a huge blue-scaled, five-headed hydra crouched between them and the altar that held the darkened Wind Crystal. Tiamat glared at all of them (which she could easily do and still have a head to spare), baring silver fangs in a clear threat.

“So...you are the mortals who dared to invade my realm above the stars, and who have claimed the lives of my brothers and sister. You will find I am not so easily felled. But at least you will die with a clear view of the world you do not belong to!”

Matt was struck by the fact that Tiamat alone among their foes seemed to know they were not from the world, but the others apparently didn’t notice or didn’t care, as Zach launched his own taunt—as always.

“If you’re done talking to yourself, shall we begin the party?”

The Fiend of Wind roared in five-part harmony, but didn’t charge, forcing the heroes to come to her. It put them at a tactical disadvantage, but at least it gave them time to boost both their offense and defense. Josh and Zach found themselves having to take on two heads a piece while the remaining head focused on the Meyers twins.

It was a divide-and-conquer strategy like Kraken had used, but while her attacks were stronger, she had fewer heads per attack than he had tentacles, so while there was a hard challenge (especially for Josh, who preferred strength to agility) nobody was taking the kind of hits that Kraken had inflicted. This didn’t make the black wizard feel any better though—rather, it made him more suspicious.

_Each of these fights has been harder than the last. What has she got planned?_

He didn’t have to wait to long for his answer, as the head he and Leslie had been facing off against suddenly reared straight up, roaring something in a language he didn’t quite recognize. On the final, inhuman sound, everything and everyone but he and Tiamat was frozen mid-attack.

“What did you do to them?” he found himself screaming as he stared at his petrified sister.

Tiamat didn’t attack, but she focused all five heads on the young man before her. “You’re the clever one on your team—yes? You tell me.”

Matt had to focus on processing rationally more than emotionally, but then the answer came. “T-time magic. You cast a Stop spell!” Then he frowned. “But the Lefeinians said that type of magic was just theoretical—nobody had managed it before.”

“I am a Fiend, little wizard—we are not bound by the same constraints as you mortals. What is mere theory for your best spell-slingers is a simple reality for me.” Tiamat smirked at the stunned boy. “Surely you see the danger you now are in—you are no match for me alone, and cannot undo my spell. I need only to slay you, then I can pick off your friends—and sister—at my leisure. But I am neither so cruel nor so inflexible as my siblings—I offer you a deal.”

Matt had to fight to tear his eyes off of Leslie and focus on the threat, but he knew he had to stall for time if he was going to get his sister out of there alive. “What sort of a deal?” He tried to sound calm and calculating, but there was a slight tremor in his tone he couldn’t quite hide.

“You don’t truly care about this world—this quest you were given with no chance to choose or protest. All you want is to get yourself and your sister back safely to your loving family—is this not so?”

Matt almost asked Tiamat how she knew about all of it, but then he remembered the viewing panel—apparently the Fiend of Wind had made good use of it. He said nothing, and another head took up Tiamat’s train of thought.

“_I_ know the magic it will take to send you home—you don’t need to worry about the crystals, you just need a powerful enough spell. I will send you and your sister back to the place you came from at the exact moment you left, and you may go on with your life, without worrying about what happens here.”

It was tempting—of course it was. As soon as Tiamat knew they were coming, she’d been planning this. She tailored the offer to him, to his wants and weaknesses. “What about the other two?”

Tiamat’s tail swished once, then lay still. “What about them?”

“Why didn’t you offer to send all of us back?” Matt frowned. “If you’ve been watching us as closely as you seem to have, you’ll know we’ve learned to stick together. Why would I leave them here?”

“Because the spell is so difficult, I can only open the portal long enough for two people to go through. But by all means, if you would rather choose one of the others _instead_ of Leslie to return with you, my offer is flexible.”

“No.” Matt crossed his arms. Leaving either of the athletes here was as good as killing them—without him, the fourth crystal wouldn’t be relit and they would never be able to return home. Besides, that the deal was offered at all... “Why would I give up my advantage?”

Tiamat reared up, surprised and angry. “Advantage? _What_ advantage?”

“You wouldn’t have made the offer if you weren’t afraid that we could kill you—if losing wasn’t a real threat,” the black wizard pointed out, growing more confident as his agile mind put together some of the pieces. “The four of us together can defeat you easily. If you can’t handle a four-person transport, too many time magic spells are beyond you. I bet that stop spell was the only one you have. And there’s one more thing about time spells...”

All at once, the other three unfroze, stumbling slowly at first, but soon recovering and re-launching their attacks.

“...they wear off.”

Tiamat was too surprised to counter at first, and by the time she rallied, she was down three heads and a claw. Josh and Zach brought their swords down on the fourth and Matt fired the fifth with a lightning bolt, but not before the hydra-like dragon got one more parting shot in:

“Fool! At least my offer was an honest one—you got no such deal from the deceiver, Lukahn! Ask him for the truth about how you came here, if you dare!”

Before he could ask her what she meant, the Fiend of Wind was dead.

* * *

After ascertaining that the others were suffering no ill effects of the stop spell—and after giving them a brief run-down as to what the spell actually was—Matt crossed alone to the final altar, darkened shard in hand. He hadn’t actually told them about Tiamat’s offer, but he knew if they didn’t end up home after he re-lit the crystal, Tiamat’s final words would bring up some uncomfortable questions.

He laid the shard beneath the larger crystal, staring at the Wind Prophecy, carved into the white stone:

_Darkness threatens all;  
_ _Your destiny awaits.  
_ _Loyalty will shine its light,  
_ _And open homeward gates._

The black wizard glared down at the enigmatic words. “Look,” he whispered, “if I was supposed to prove I can be loyal, shouldn’t refusing to leave without the knuckleheads have sufficed to light this darn thing?”

_“Not until you understand how your loyalties have expanded beyond yourself and family—and until they expand yet again.”_

The voice that unexpectedly answered him was crackling, hissing, and breathy—like an ancient but strong whisper, or the sound of a windstorm, if air could speak. Matt frowned, trying to protest. “Look, I was looking out for my team. That’s what a team does.”

_“Your team—that’s the point.”_

“I beg your pardon?” Matt blinked.

_“All your life, you’ve been called selfish because you only cared for those things you saw as yours—primarily, your family. But now you have come to claim Josh and Zach as well—your team, your friends. Whatever you claim, that you defend and fight for.”_

It seemed a counter-intuitive idea, but he had to admit it had merit—flashing through his mind were images and scenes of all the times he’d been tempted to stand up and fight—physically or verbally—in this world and in his own home. None were for his own sake, exactly, but all were for people he thought of, in a way, as ‘his’. Matt’s mind jumped ahead. “So, you’re saying loyalty is expanded selfishness? That I just have to lay claim to more people?” It sounded weird, and not quite right.

_“I’m saying that is how I can make you understand loyalty better. I’m also saying that you are not betraying your first loyalties by expanding your definition of those who are ‘yours’. You can defend your sister, aid your friends, and still do good for this world.”_

“Yeah,” Matt admitted, knowing the logic was sound—and, moreover, that the idea actually had some appeal. Thinking of his experiences at school, he added: “And I guess that sometimes you have to claim a place to feel at home there, rather than go the other way?”

_“Now you’ve got it!”_

In tandem with the voice’s affirmation and the black wizard’s acceptance, the crystal flickered to life. The glyphs did as well and with the same hope that the next step would take them back home, all four stepped on the glowing section of the floor, none hearing the voice’s parting words:

_“Finish strongly, Bearer of the Wind Crystal. May you finally reach the place you search for—may your luck hold better than mine.”_


	16. Wibbbly-Wobbly Timey-Wimey

_“People assume that time is a strict progression of _cause_ to _effect_. But actually, from a non-linear, non-subjective view point it’s more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey ...stuff.” (Doctor Who)_

* * *

When the teens opened their eyes after all sensations of movement had stopped, there was a moment of silence as they took in a familiar landscape—just not the familiar landscape they’d been hoping for. Instead of the lights of the city and the banks of Four Lights Pond, they were back in the desert, staring at the mountains that cut them off from Onrac and Lefeinia.

“Why—” Leslie started, wilting a little with weariness and disappointment. “Why are we still here? What did we do wrong?”

“Maybe nothing,” Zach replied, but looking at her brother, not her. “Meyers—what was Tiamat’s parting shot about?”

Matt hesitated, but he finally told them in as plain and matter-of-fact manner as possible about what occurred when Tiamat stopped time. “So,” he said as he wrapped up the tale, “she seemed to be insinuating someone chose to cast a spell and bring us here, so while she couldn’t send all four of us back, whoever brought us here can.”

Josh blinked slowly, processing the black wizard’s tale and assessment. “So, what you’re saying is...”

Matt nodded. “It’s time to take a Fiend’s advice. Let’s head back to Crescent Lake.”

* * *

When the airship appeared over Crescent Lake, those on board could see one figure standing alone on the grassy sward outside the city walls. Lukahn was waiting for them.

No one spoke when the four heroes approached the elderly sage. Lukahn looked at each in turn, taking in the relit and glowing shards that were testament to the completed quest, but the expression on his face was equal parts despair, shame, and fear—someone watching a tragedy they had written. He tried to muster a smile, but it was a poor effort, indeed.

“Well done—you have interrupted the cycle of the Fiends!”

“But we haven’t stopped or broken it—have we?” Matt broke in, practically growling. “And it wasn’t some impersonal, mystic force that brought us here—was it? It was you!”

Lukahn couldn’t meet those glowing yellow eyes—or the eyes of any of the heroes. “N-not I—nor was it my choice or idea.”

He wasn’t denying that they were on the right track, but neither was he willing to give up any further information. “The inn is just as good as you remember, with more reasonable prices than you encountered on the northern continents. Would you like to stay the night? From the looks of it, you came here straight from the desert. You need to rest and reward yourself after what you have accomplished.”

After that, they got no more out of their eccentric guide. In the end, they decided to reconvene in the inn and come up with a strategy for the next day so that they could get the information they needed out of the reticent old man.

* * *

“Think maybe I should use the same tactic that worked with the merchant? Lean on him, threaten him a bit?” Josh offered, with an apologetic glance at Leslie, knowing she wouldn’t be a fan of such a plan. To his surprise, it was a different wizard who protested.

Zach shook his head, frowning a little. “I don’t think so, man: that tactic really only works on someone who’s not that confident, or who doesn’t have all the cards. Lukahn’s not the type to fold under pressure. We’d be better of appealing to his sense of right and wrong—didn’t you see his face? He knows something, and he feels bad for not telling us.”

“So—guilt trip?” Josh asked, uncertain, looking to his friend for confirmation, realizing that this was one of the few times Zach was taking charge and countering him as an equal and not a follower, but his idea had merit. “I probably shouldn’t take the lead on that, then.”

“Yeah, probably not. Leslie, do you feel up to it? You’d probably be the best for that plan, but if you don’t want to...”

The white wizard shrugged. “I think I can handle it. And you’re right—he’s almost ready to tell us, he’s just afraid of how we’ll react, so let’s not bite his head off—okay?” Her last comment was aimed at both the knight and her brother, neither of whom looked happy, but agreed nevertheless.

* * *

Over breakfast, Leslie and Zach worked out the details of their approach to Lukahn, and Matt was surprised at how well the other two worked together, given that they hadn’t seemed to interact much, even over their long quest. Nevertheless, they seemed on the same page as they worked out the strategy for the day.

“Alright, I think we got this. So how do we find Lukahn?” Zach asked at last.

Leslie smiled, standing up from the breakfast table. “I’ve got an idea for that. I think I know where he is.”

The boys followed her out of the inn’s tavern-like restaurant and out through the town, back to the clearing where Lukahn had first told them about the crystals and the fiends. Sure enough, the elderly sage was standing where he was before, watching them trickle in with a morose expression, all of his previous eccentric energy seemed to have evaporated sometime between their two visits. At least this time, he didn’t bolt, but waited for them to arrive. As one, all four sat on the grass, creating the mirror image of the last time, though the differences were all too clear: the young warriors were stronger, dressed in the new symbols of their time with Bahamut, while the old sage seemed deflated, for once, moving and acting like a man his age.

“Lukahn,” Leslie said at last, face and tone somber, “we beat the Fiends, but we didn’t go home. What did we do wrong? Is there something we missed?”

“No, my dear,” the old man admitted, not daring to meet her hazel eyes. “At least, you did well with the information that I did give you. As I did before—not meeting you at the start—I proved a coward and left out...shall we say...some crucial information?”

“Like what?” Matt growled, but after his sister glared at him, he reluctantly added, “If you would please enlighten us—our families will be worried by now.”

Lukahn shook his head. “When all is done, it will be as if none of this has happened—you will be returned exactly where you were—_when_ and where—before you came to this world, and they will never know you were missing. At least, that is the theory...”

Despite Leslie’s warning look, Matt couldn’t let that slide. _“_Theory?_ Who’s_ theory—yours?”

The accusation obviously nettled Lukahn, as it finally got a reaction out of the eccentric beyond guilt or embarrassment: “_Yours_, as a matter of fact, young man!”

That stunned all four into silence as they looked at the furious sage, but Lukahn’s face quickly lost his anger, replacing it with resignation. “As I told you before, the Fiends rise and fall in a cyclical pattern. What I neglected to say is that every time they fall, it is _you_ who fell them.” There was no reaction as they seemed to turn over that revelation in their heads, trying to figure out how it was possible. “The other heroes that I spoke of before—those were you. The cycle isn’t just a cycle of events—it’s a time loop.”

Zach blinked, thinking about what Matt had told them about Tiamat’s play in their last fight. “I’m getting really sick of wonky time-tricks,” he muttered under his breath, but Lukahn was finally on a roll.

“Every time you defeat the fiends, the energy of their deaths resurrects an embodiment of Chaos itself, 2,000 years in the past. He, in turn, begins the cycle anew, resurrecting the fiends and fading gradually in power until you kill him, shortly after your arrival here.”

“Shortly after our...” Josh muttered, then realization hit. “You mean—Garland?”

Lukahn nodded sadly. “That poor man was the last vessel Chaos used to inhabit—as the power of the fiends grew, his waned, and he needed a host to remain manifest. This limited him to a human form, and a human’s weaknesses. When he rises again, he will not be so limited. To return to your home, you must defeat him and break the cycle. If you do so—successfully this time—you will find yourself where you began, as you will never have been called here in the first place.”

Matt alone was still keeping up, at least enough to question. “Iif, as you said yesterday, it wasn’t your choice, idea, or actions that brought us here, who was it?”

“Once the cycle began, the voices of your future contacted me—gave me the prophecies—told me your story, asked me to work with the most powerful magician to bring your pasts—you—to this world. Every time, you get a little farther and are able to tell me more that I may pass on to you,” Lukahn admitted.

Josh and Leslie were getting really turned around, but the knight held on to one thing he did understand. “Wait—if we fail every time, what happens to us? And how do our future selves contact you?” It was a credit to all the weirdness he’d been through that he was able to ask those questions in a completely serious manner—and hope for a serious response.

Lukahn winced. “Chaos...is cruel. When he defeats you—and he has defeated you many times, apparently—he doesn’t kill you, but traps you in the crystals of your respective elements so that the fiends feed upon your energy, which I hear is extremely painful. This continues until the residual energy of the Fiends resurrects Chaos and it all begins again. However, since you are then essentially pure magical energy with a human consciousness, you are able to send me the prophetic dream and tell me the story after all four Fiends rise. Then I, with some help, bring the four of you into this world, and the cycle continues.”

“Well, _that_ sounds pleasant,” Zach muttered, looking as stricken as his fellow Warriors of Light—all at once, all knew why the voices that spoke to them in their moments of testing sounded so familiar and knew them so well. “Any tips on how to avoid that this time?”

The question had been sarcastic. The answer was not. “Actually—yes!” Lukahn brightened at the prospect of giving good news, for once. “Apparently, on our last trip around the cycle, you heard a rumor about four _other _places the power of the elements are concentrated—and rumor or legend has it that, should you go through one, you emerge stronger as a team, instead of individually, as you are after you face your crystal. However, you were so worried about not reaching Chaos in time you did not act on these rumors. But they and I both agree that this time around, you should try. After all, the time portal you opened—will open—always takes you back to the same point in time, and Chaos has to defeat you to raise the Fiends, so maybe time isn’t as much an issue.”

Josh groaned as at least partial understanding dawned. “You mean we have to go fight four _more_ giant monsters before we face down this Big Bad that we’ve never been able to beat?”

“Pretty much!” Lukahn chirped, apparently having rallied now that the discussion was moving out of the past and towards the future—which would soon be the past. “I took the liberty of searching for those four places while you were off in the north. I can mark them on the map, if you’d like.”

“We’ll think about it,” Josh put in before any of the others spoke. “There may be other, less tedious ways of preparing.”

Lukahn looked as though he wished to protest, but then changed his mind, his previous mourning air returning as three of the four young heroes left his clearing to go back to the inn for yet another council session. Only the black wizard lingered, the light of curiosity blazing in those twin yellow orbs.

“If our past/future selves were the ones who told you to bring us here and continue the cycle—how did we get here the first time then? How did the loop start? Where did this begin?”

Lukahn shrugged—of the personal opinion that at least part of his insanity (or what others called his insanity, he personally thought he was fine) may have been due to pondering that very question. “Lad—I have no idea.”

* * *

Zach knew Josh was upset—the stocky athlete only paced this furiously when he was really wound up. “Dude—calm down, you’re making me dizzy!”

“Calm down? _Calm down!?_ I barely understood half of what he said—I know you got more—and the one thing I do know is that we’re barely halfway done and you want me to _calm down!?_”

The red wizard merely shrugged. “Either calm down or stop pacing—panic really isn’t productive. The way I see it, there’s one question at stake: do we take our own advice and go through these four places?”

“Actually,” Leslie put in, drawing the attention of both athletes, and halting Josh’s frantic steps at last, “the question _really_ is: do we think we can beat Chaos this time _without_ going to these places and facing whatever they have in store?”

“Exactly—and I don’t think we are,” Zach put in.

Josh frowned. “But is that the best way to get stronger—do you honestly think we can or should do this?”

“You really want my honest opinion?” At his best friend’s nod, Zach shrugged, but his face said this was far from a casual matter for him. “Well, here it is: I don’t think we have any other choice. However hard it is or long it takes, we have to do this.”

Marveling yet again at how far his friend had come since Mt. Gulg, Josh let his shoulders slump in defeat. “Alright then—tomorrow, we ask Lukahn where we’re heading next.”


	17. Heart of the Earth

_“Hazel made her way into the cavern she called the Heart of the Earth....the whole chamber thrummed with energy, an echoing _boom, boom, boom _that reminded Hazel of a heart beat.” (Rick Riordan,_ Son of Neptune_)_

* * *

Business was slow in the Cornelian weapons shop, and the proprietor was allowing his mind to wander for a moment, when the sound of the shop’s door opening drew him out of the back room. “I’ll be with you in a moment—”

Undar ground to a halt at the sight that greeted him as he rounded the corner. Four figures in better armor than the town’s blacksmith could ever hope to make, and an air of confidence that came with months of experience facing the worst of monsters stood before him, waiting to see if he recognized them. And how could he not? Even without the now-glowing shards around their neck, he’d know them—he never forgot a face, especially not of the teams he took the time to mentor.

“You kept your promise,” he managed at last as the one girl—a white wizard now—came around the corner and embraced him.

“Of course we did!” she said as she pulled back. “How could we break a promise to the man who helped us the most?”

Undar led the four into the back room, indicating they take a seat. “Tell an old man—what have the Warriors of Light been up to after all these months?”

They told him everything. He didn’t understand quite everything they said about time loops and other worlds, but he could tell that he was the first person they’d confided in—and they needed to tell someone. The retired monster hunter was honored and surprised they’d chosen him of all people, but he couldn’t deny feeling a teacher’s pride when he heard all that they’d learned and accomplished. Maybe he’d only helped them get started, but he’d always think of these four heroes as his students—his children—for as long as he’d remember them.

* * *

The trip to Cornelia hadn’t been made just so they could drop in on an old friend (and enjoy the best inn prices in the world—they could attest to that, now); actually, Earth-Gift Shrine, the first of the elemental centers they had to explore was halfway between the town and the Chaos Shrine. The half-day’s journey it took to get to the cave served as a reminder of just how far they’d come since that terrifying morning they’d woken up with no idea where they were. The goblins that’d nearly killed them were barely any trouble for the battle-hardened teens now, and didn’t slow their progress in the least.

At last, they reached the small cave—easy to overlook, as it had gone unnoticed during their first adventure in that area—and made their way inside.

At first, there was nothing too usual about the place: warm tan sandstone tunnels leading in opposite directions. They explored a little in both directions, taking in the rough-hewn passages that were just a tad too straight to be natural (though only just barely), finding some gil and potions, before finding the stair that led down to the next level.

_That_ was when things got...weird.

* * *

All four froze at the bottom of the stairs...then turned around to realize the stairs they’d descended were gone.

“What the hell?” Zach mumbled, too dazed to come up with a sarcastic quip.

In truth, they were all as surprised as he. After all, when one enters into a small, underground cavern and goes _down_ a flight of stairs, one doesn’t really expect to emerge into a desert under a seemingly clear sky. Matt was the first to recover, delivering his assessment.

“There’s too much residual magic to say for sure, but it’s either an illusion or we transported.”

Josh frowned. “Either way—what do we do now: explore?” The others shrugged, as all knew the answer: what else could they do?”

They soon discovered that it was a very strange area they’d arrived in—even besides the obvious. If they walked too far in a certain direction, they ended up right back where they started. They tried the cardinal directions first, but all they found were caches of gil and stat-boosting items. Finally, Matt noticed a strand of palm trees growing in an odd arrangement around an oasis.

“Is this a heat-induced hallucination, or are these trees forming an arrow?”

Zach took a second look. “No—it’s definitely an arrow. Should we follow it?”

“What else can we do?” the black wizard replied, internally marveling at two wonders: first, that they’d so quickly accepted the weirdness that was that desert and second, that he and Zach had just had a civilized, constructive, collaborative conversation without insulting or snapping at the other.

_Quite the strange place, indeed._

Sure enough, the two boys had guessed right, and the group soon stumbled across the oddity of a staircase leading beneath the sand, smack in the middle of an impossible desert. With a good deal more trepidation this time, the four teens moved downward yet again.

* * *

To their eternal surprise—because, as it turned out, this place _could_ still surprise them—the next level was architecturally identical to the first: tan sandstone, rough-hewn into simple tunnels. Well, one tunnel it turned out. This time, the only turn-offs were small alcoves, each of which contained special items—a helm that, like the staff Josh had found in the citadel of trials, cast a low-level healing spell, and a small axe that could cast the lowest level of holy magic. The helm was given to Josh, who passed the staff off to Matt, and Zach was handed the axe. He was about to protest that left Leslie without a magic item, when he remembered her gauntlets—that she didn’t use often—could cast a thunder spell, _and_ her hammer was undeniably laced with a similar spell.

A little further down the path was yet another flight of downward steps. As they headed down, the red wizard was heard to mutter, “Just so long as it’s not a desert this time—I’m sick of sand. Anything but that.”

* * *

Matt took a long slow look around the next floor before turning back the red wizard. “Congratulations, Prehill,” he said, for once his voice light and teasing rather than sharp and accusatory, “you got your wish.”

“Guess I did,” Zach said, a rueful grin on his face as he took in indigo grass and violet trees all under a lavender sky, “this isn’t a desert.”

Josh personally wasn’t sure what was weirder—this ‘Earth-Gift Shrine’ place or the fact that the other two boys now seemed not just to be getting along, but also to be bouncing ideas and jokes off of each other with practiced ease.

Finding their way out wasn’t nearly so hard this time—the exit was actually insight from the beginning. A few treasures were found along the way, but the real surprise were the other people they encountered—until those people turned into mosnters and attacked. Sadly, somehow, that lent an air of normalcy to the whole venture.

_And that is nothing if not a commentary on how our expectations have changed since coming here,_ the knight couldn’t help but think.

* * *

They found themselves back in the sandstone cavern locale, this time, with a difference. Now, they stood at a 4-way intersection, staring at the inscription on a small pillar:

_A choice now lies before you,  
_ _No answer right or wrong.  
_ _At least one foe you must now face,  
_ _And then you may move on._

“Uh—say what now?” Zach asked, rereading the four simple lines again.

Leslie had turned away, staring at the four hallways. “I think...I’m not sure, but I _think_ that each hallway leads to something we have to fight if we want to keep going.”

“Do we have to fight all of them?” her brother asked, noticing now what his sister had—the names at the top of each hallway: Ahriman, Two-Headed Dragon, Echidna, and Cerberus.

Zach finally looked up from scanning the poem again. “Maybe not—it does say there’s no right or wrong answer, and it mentions making a choice—why would we have to choose if we have to fight them all anyway?”

“So, we have something I’ve never heard of, a two-headed dragon of unknown size, strength, and skill, the mother of all monsters, and the guardian of the underworld. Any votes?” Josh asked, also canning the names.

“How about we take on the known?” Leslie asked, pointing to the Cerberus hall. “In all the myths, he really was just big and strong—with three heads. We’ve faced worse.”

No one really had any objections to her plan or assessment, so all four moved down the indicated hallway. Now, all had originally had different ideas as to what Cerberus would look like, or at least, what dog he’d be based on. Zach figured he’d be based on a German Shepherd, while Josh had pictured something more along the lines of a Doberman Pinscher; Leslie had always been nervous around Rottweilers, so tended to associate the demon dog with them, while her brother was more straightforward: Cerberus was big, so he must be a three-headed Great Dane.

As it turned out, all were wrong, and all were right. Cerberus was the most awkward-looking dog-like creature one could imagine: the sloped back, bent hind legs and coloration of a German Shepherd, with a Great Dane head in the center, flanked by a Rottweiler head on one side and a Doberman Pinscher’s on the other. At the disjointed sight he presented, all four ground to a halt, and Zach could barely suppress a snicker.

“That poor dog,” he muttered, grinning.

Cerberus’ attacks, though, were no laughing matter: all four paws could crush, each bite could be fatal...oh, and he could shoot lightning bolts to.

“Since when was that in the myth?” Zach yelped as he dodged yet another blast.

Matt ran past him, dusking under the Rottweiler’s bite and thrusting his knife upwards into the giant dog’s neck (they’d quickly realized that offensive magic was pretty much useless in this battle), “Less talk, more bash!”

Just as the Rottweiler turned to snap at the puny human who’d dared to wound him, Zach lopped off one of its ears, effectively getting its attention long enough for Matt to scramble around to a better location. “There’s always time to do both in a battle, Meyers!”

Josh was focused on keeping the Pinscher away from Leslie, but he could tell from the corner of his eye that Matt and Zach were tag-teaming their offense, keeping both of Cerberus’ other heads occupied. The assessment Leslie had made weeks ago was being proven accurate—when those two got their act together, they were a frighteningly unstoppable pair.

Cerberus fell quickly, not being much of an enemy when compared to the fiends the Warriors of Light had already dispatched. As the would-be guardian of hades fell, transportation glyphs on the floor lit up, nearly identical to the ones behind each crystal altar.

“That’s it?” Zach asked, looking around. “I thought we were supposed to get stronger as team or something.”

Josh gave his friend a sideways look, noticing the black wizard standing beside him—a place Matt never would have been only weeks before. “I think we did, man; I think we did.”


	18. Face the Fire Below

_“The winds of hell may blow, but as you well may know: I'll heed your call, no need too small, and face the fire below for you!” (‘Two Kinsmen’_ _from_ The Mystery of Edwin Drood_)_

* * *

The next ‘elemental center’ (as the warriors of Light had decided to call them), Hell-Fire Chasm, was located in the same island chain as the Dragon City of Cardia, so the questors stopped there first, expecting to spend the night with their friend Cyril, but upon their arrival, they found that the dragons had seen their ship approaching, and Bahamut had said they were to have an audience with him. They ended up telling the Oldest of Dragons and his nephew, Cyril, everything they’d learned from Lukahn, even about not being from that world. Bahamut understood more than Undar had, but was unable to give the four teens any advice this time—they’d crossed beyond his realm of experience once time looped back on itself. But the look of hope in both pair of reptilian eyes when they learned that their allies, their brethren, and the Lefeinians might be saved if Chaos was stopped in time...Leslie knew she could not disappoint them.

For his part, the Dragon King could not have been prouder of the four youths who, though they knew it not, were the first and only humans to be dragon-trained at all, let alone by the Oldest of Dragons himself. In many ways, he felt that they were kin to him—his hatchlings even—and he swore to himself that they’d be honored as such in dragon lore so long as dragons remained to remember.

* * *

The first level of Hell-Fire Chasm resembled the interior of Mt. Gulg, making the questors thankful indeed that Zach had cast his flame-shield spell before they entered.

As the four made their way down the fairly linear path, avoiding lava when they could, walking quickly and trusting the red wizard when they could not, Matt kept looking over at his twin, knowing her deep-seated fear of the flames. During their assault on the volcano, she’d hovered very near him the whole time, making him feel as though he kept her safe, even when, in reality, he could not have done anything. Still, he’d felt needed, at least, in a time when he’d felt like the _least_ important member of the team. But now...

...Now, when his sister felt uncertain or afraid, she drifted closer to the knight. And it seemed that Josh had noticed, as well, for every now and again their hands would brush or eyes would meet—all very sweet, to be sure, and the younger boy was no longer dead-set against his sister ending up in a relationship with the athlete, but still, Matt found himself wondering just when his sister stopped seeing him as the person to turn to in times of fear.

_Well, just because we’re twins doesn’t mean we’re joined at the hip,_ the younger boy reminded himself. And he now knew he had a place and a role in the team, so it wasn’t as though he felt completely unnecessary...

But still, a brother likes to feel as though he can protect his sister, and as though she trusts him to do so.

* * *

A few levels further down, the environment changed: this cave was cool and damp, with the stone around them tinged blue—and, boy, was it crowded! So many people kept bustling around, jostling the four, ramming into them, tripping them, or simply blocking their path. All seemed rather annoyed by the presence of the heroes, calling them trespassers and terrible adventurers if they deigned to speak at all.

The only areas not crowded by this ill-tempered mass of humanity were the patches of fog that hung inexplicably here and there—and they soon found out why. Each patch of fog was thickly packed with monsters awaiting the chance to ambush unwary travelers. It was incredibly slow going as the teens made their way to the exit, and all were in a sour mood by the time they finally moved on.

* * *

Five levels in, they found themselves standing in the center of two paths, faced by another inscription:

_Halfway through, two ways to turn;  
_ _You know not yet but soon will learn  
_ _Two gatekeepers stand opposed,  
_ _One death opens what now is closed._

Zach gave a low whistle. “Man—someone likes obscure riddles.”

“Not so obscure,” Leslie pointed out. “I think it’s like last time: we have a choice of fights, but we have to fight at least one to get out.”

“Not get out—go on. The riddle says that we’re only halfway done,” Matt pointed out.

Josh had turned to look at the names over the two archways—Way of Wind and Way of Water. Zach saw them, too, frowning. “Wait—isn’t this supposed to be the elemental center of fire? What’s with the other elements?”

“Well, in the last dungeon, we went underground to walk through a desert,” Matt pointed out. “I don’t think logic means much in these places. So... Which way?”

Leslie hesitated before suggesting: “If we’re in the center of fire, water would be weaker here—right?”

Nobody had a definite answer for her, but eventually, Zach shrugged. “Well, it’s worth a shot. Wonder what it’ll be?”

As it turned out, it was a gigantic turtle with a blue-skinned, human-like face.

“Well, that’s just creepy,” the red wizard observed. “Hey, Meyers—what do you say we light him up?”

“Worth a shot!” the younger boy replied, and a moment later, the two released powerful versions of their fire and lightning spells, only for their foe to have pulled within his shell at the last moment, rendering the magic ineffective. Matt growled under his breath. “Drat! You better back Wilson up with the frontal assault, man, I’ll boost you. Go!”

As the red wizard charged forward, the turtle creature released his first attack: a tidal wave that swept all four into a pile, tangling them up and half-drowning them. Zach choked as the brackish water forced itself down his throat, and he realized with a terrified jolt that their enemy was still controlling the water and using it to _intelligently_ drown them. He’d never been particularly afraid of water before, but in that moment, he flailed out in panic—and kept struggling as he remained unable to breathe.

Suddenly, someone had seized him by the shoulders, pinning his arms while someone else whacked him on the back with a great deal of force, helping him to cough out and expel the water from his lungs. When his mind and airways both cleared, he realized that the turtle was dead, the head lopped off by Josh’s blade, and his teammates had gathered around him, each Meyers twin holding an arm with Josh behind him, asking, “Hey—hey, Zach! You with us, man?”

“Y-Yeah,” he managed at last, a little embarrassed that he’d been seen panicking, but mostly just confused. “Wh-what..?”

“What happened?” Matt supplied, completing the question Zach didn’t quite have the breath to form. “Not much, really. You got hit by the wave worst, considering that you were charging him dead-on. Josh was off to the side, so it was more of a glancing blow, and Leslie and I had time to brace ourselves. Josh recovered first and decapitated the thing while it was busy trying to kill us. Oh, and it turned out that water _isn’t _weaker down here.”

Zach lurched to his feet, grimacing at the black wizard’s attempt at a joke. “No kidding,” he managed to wheeze at last.

* * *

It turns out their foe had been blocking a downward staircase and, when Zach had recovered enough that Leslie deemed him fit to go on, they descended. The next two levels were relatively quiet—for lava-filled tunnels and shrines—but the heat sapped too much energy for there to be much in the way of conversation, leaving each questor essentially trapped in their own mind.

_Always a dangerous place, to be sure,_ Leslie reflected, _but sometimes, truth can be found there as well._ She was pulled out of her thoughts for a second as a hellhound leapt out at the four, only for Josh, who was walking beside her, to slay it with a single sword-swing. Such encounters were fairly common occurrences—it no longer took all four to take down a single monster, and, as Josh usually took point, he normally took care of things. Zach brought up the rear in case of a ‘back attack’, and the twins were usually somewhere in the middle, keeping an eye on the flanks and ready to lend aid where needed.

The white wizard had also noticed that her brother no longer hovered over her shoulder, ready to fry any monster that leapt at her. He hadn’t for a while now, she realized—in fact, he’d been distant since at least Bahamut’s training. Not chilly, not like he appeared to people who didn’t know him, but still...

_You’ve been distant, too, _a voice in the back of her head pointed out. _When you first got here, you looked out for him as much as he did for you, trying to get him to open up and trust the others, but since Bahamut, you haven’t as much. Not even when you knew it was his crystal coming up. _

The thought troubled her: she didn’t want to baby him, and she didn’t want him to hover, but still, she missed the closeness the two had shared before the trip to this world—when there was no hesitation to turn to the other for help or advice when it was needed.

_I guess we’re trying to find the balance between growing up and growing apart._

* * *

A few levels further on, they found themselves seemingly out in the open again; an observation that made Matt grumble under his breath. “I’m starting to agree with you, Prehill. These illusions or...or _whatever_ they are...are just annoying.”

“At least it’s a nice day!” Leslie pointed out, trying to put a positive spin on things.

The other two wizards were not willing to be cheered, however. “For all we know,” Zach pointed out, “There’s a hurricane going on out there.”

Leslie, however, was not cowed by the boys’ determination to be pessimists. “Well then—I guess we should be glad that we’re safe in here!”

Zach blinked, taken aback by the white wizard’s quick comeback, then jumped a little as a wild cat jumped out at him. He swung quickly, dispatching the cat, before giving Leslie a disbelieving look. “Yeah...real safe.”

“Unless you’re bleeding or poisoned, you don’t have a point,” Leslie pointed out, leaving Zach without a quick retort for nearly the first time.

* * *

Ten levels down, they found themselves in between two archways, one labeled ‘Way of Fire’, the other ‘Way of Earth’. In between them, on a small pillar, was yet another 4-line riddle.

_Now you walk the fiery depths,  
_ _To be only freed by monster’s death.  
_ _Either way, a tough foe you face,  
_ _Yet one you must to leave this place._

“Well, at least we know what they mean, now,” Josh pointed out. “Which way are you guys thinking?”

There was silence as the four teams stared, internally deliberating. Finally, Zach spoke: “Earth’s normally weak to fire, so any earth monster that can survive down here will have very few weaknesses that we’ll be able to exploit. Fire is just fire. Any objections?”

There were none, and soon they found themselves facing an inhumanly tall figure wrapped in a patterned, red cloak. When he saw them, the man sneered. “You fools have chosen well—now you will die at the hands of Rubicante!”

Before Zach could think of a good taunt, Rubicante launched a fireball at them, effectively starting the fight. Josh and Leslie dodged to one side, Zach and Matt to the other. The twins cast their boosting spells as the two football players charged in, head-on. Matt switched to ice-based magic as soon as he’d raised the athlete’s speed and strength, then cursed under his breath—just like Marilith, this Rubicante wasn’t weak to any type of magic, not even ice.

He drew his knife, staring at the wizard who was currently just pulling even with Josh and Zach. Another fighter could tip the fight in their favor, but he wasn’t used to the fighting formation and could accidentally take out one of the other two by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Before the black wizard had decided how best to contribute, he saw Rubicante backhand Zach. The older boy went flying, fortunately coming to a crash-landing right by Leslie, who immediately set about healing the lanky wizard. Unfortunately, that meant both were distracted, and neither saw the column of flame heading their way.

“Leslie!” Matt shouted, then quickly rattled off an ice spell, trying to from a shield between the flames and his sister. On such short notice, the shield was weak, and soon gave way, when the smoke cleared, it was revealed that he’d bought just enough time for Zach to strengthen the flame-proof spell on him and Leslie, but even so, Matt could tell the white wizard was in pain. In that, Rubicante had crossed the line.

“Not my sister, you half-baked excuse for a firefly!”

All three stared in surprise as the normally controlled black wizard completely lost it, charging the twisted mage with dirk in hand, even as he rattled off a spell they’d never heard before.

Leslie stumbled to her feet, knowing how much energy her brother had already expended—the Flare spell he was now attempting could kill him! “Matt—” she started, but she was interrupted by a blinding light of heat so intense it was tinged blue.

When they could see again, Josh, Zach, and Leslie beheld the youngest Warrior of Light standing tense, blood dripping from his dagger, over the fallen form of Rubicante. He was breathing hard, but otherwise didn’t seem to be suffering any ill-effects of magical exhaustion. His glowing yellow eyes met his sister’s concerned haze ones, both eventually smiling as they assured themselves the other was, indeed, alright, and were reminded that wherever life took them, they’d always be there for the other.


	19. Kiss the Girl

_“Now’s your moment: floating in a blue lagoon. Boy, you better do it soon; no time will be better. She don’t say a word, and she won’t say a word until you kiss the girl.” (_‘Kiss the Girl’, _The Little Mermaid)_

* * *

The elemental center for water, the Life-Spring Grotto, was actually located underwater, just out of the canal they had helped to reopen what felt like so long ago. This meant that they had to use the spell they’d developed with Aeliana to allow them to breathe underwater—though for how long, they had no idea, given the unusual precedent set by the previous two centers.

* * *

As it turned out, once they made their way inside, they were in a place that looked more like the Marsh Cave than the Sunken Shrine. The whole cavern had breathable air, though it was so jam-packed with pillars, stalactites, and stalagmites that they _wished_ it had been filled by water, as it might have been easier to swim up, over, and around than wander around the _entire_ room to get to the stairs and head down to the next level.

* * *

Later on, after a few levels filled with monsters—and occasionally water—they emerged into a seemingly sun-filled area filled with something else entirely: scantily clad dancing girls. Josh stopped short, the Meyers twins both blushed and looked away, and Zach...was Zach.

He raised his eyebrows, grinning at the crowd of girls practicing in front of them, before turning his smirk to Josh. “What a place, huh?”

Josh knew is best friend wasn’t really serious—he’d never actually been much of a flirt, never paid much attention to any of the girls who did everything they could to attract the attention of the football team. It wasn’t common knowledge, but Josh knew his best friend was very interested in Kristen Schoplan, the queen of the drama club, and, in a sappier moment, the lankier boy had confided he didn’t really notice other girls anymore—his own little way of trying to tell Kristen she was the only girl he cared about.

_I thought he was joking at the time, but now I think I understand..._As the thought trailed off, he found himself glancing over at Leslie. When he realized what he had just admitted to himself, he almost stopped walking, causing one of the dancers they were currently pushing past to nearly trip over him. With a muttered apology, he hurried on, but now his mind was buzzing down a different path all together.

There was no denying he and Leslie had been growing close. He’d felt protective of her from the very start, then, after his explosion in Melmond and their subsequent talk on the roof, something else had happened. In the Shrunken Shrine, he’d admitted to himself he thought she was beautiful (though he hadn’t told her yet) but what he’d just admitted to himself is that this—whatever it was—had progressed from passive admiration to, maybe, something else...

_But what should I do about it? Does she even feel the same? Or is she just being the healer and the caretaker? Is it better to say something or hold my tongue?_

Whoever said the truth would set you free had forgotten what it was like to be a teenager.

* * *

Zach glanced over at his friend occasionally during their trip through the next two layers. Something had caused the knight to go quiet, and the lankier athlete had no idea what it had been. By the fifth layer, he’d made up his mind to pull Josh aside, but then it became clear they weren’t alone.

They were surrounded by mermaids, all of whom seemed surprised and frightened to see ‘land walkers’ so deep in their realm. Once more, Leslie sprang into action, calming fears and explaining who they were and their friendship with the dragons of Cardia and the mermaids of the Sunken Shrine.

Eventually, the mermaids agreed to show them to the way to the next level, but before they could descend the stairs, a man in odd-looking armor leapt out at them, frightening their guides away.

“You shall not have it; Suckers—I, Gilgamesh, got Excalibur first!”

This shout greatly confused Josh, who’d been pretty sure that the sword the dwarf smith had made for him out of the metal from the Flying Fortress had been named Excalibur. He had no time to worry about that, however, as the strange figure launched his first attack.

Josh caught the powerful axe-strike on his own blade, wondering in the back of his mind why this Gilgamesh fellow didn’t draw the sword he was so proud of having obtained. The two weapons were locked together, and Josh found his opponent was leaning heavily on his axe, either trying to push Josh to the ground, or else be so close to the knight that none of the wizards dared launch a spell. There was an easy way to fix that, however...

Shifting his weight slightly, Josh suddenly delivered a sharp kick to a very sensitive area. Not exactly an honorable move, but a _highly_ effective one, especially as he was able to drop back out of range of Matt’s Thunder spell. As Gilgamesh was still reeling, Zach moved up, shoulder-to-shoulder with his friend, as his fire magic would not be that effective underwater.

Their strange opponent straightened up, dropping his axe and drawing a sword that did look very much indeed like the one Josh held. “Now, behold the true power of Excalibur!” Gilgamesh shouted as he charged.

The wild swing actually _did_ manage to make contact with the knight’s shield... only to shatter on impact. Josh winced as a shard of blade scratched his cheek but otherwise, he was unhurt. Gilgamesh stared at the hilt in his hand in horror, completely oblivious to the second thunder spell that knocked him into a pillar and out of the fight.

The four stood a moment, trying to process what had happened. Finally, as the mermaids began to slowly return, Zach summed up what they were all thinking:

“Well, _that_ was anti-climactic.”

* * *

Room after room, level after level they pushed onward, starting to find that this elemental center was not only longer than the previous two, but harder as well, the monsters it held putting up more of a fight and taking more effort to kill, even for the Warriors of Light.

And that wasn’t even the worst challenge they would have to face...

* * *

The first thing they noticed about the cavern was that it was filled with air, and not water, so they released the spell to allow them to breathe, saving the energy for when they would need it.

The second thing they noticed was that they recognized the impossibly huge cavern—how could they not after the weeks they had spent training there?

The third thing they noticed was the dark-scaled dragon sitting on the dais that served as his throne.

“Bahamut!” Leslie cried in joy, running to their mentor.

The dragon reared up as the white wizard approached his throne, wings flaring and silver fangs bared. The dark-haired girl faltered to a halt, confusion and dismay spreading on her face like an oil spill, as the others slowed their own pace, coming beside her. “Bahamut?” she asked again, in a small voice.

“If you wish to pass onward,” the behemoth intoned in a voice at once achingly familiar and yet disturbingly different, “you must first defeat three green dragons, two zombie dragons, five yellow dragons, four white dragons, and one blue dragon.”

None could say quite what was wrong with picture before them, except to say that Bahamut was too harsh—both in appearance and in how he sounded.

They turned around to find that the previously empty room was now filled with the milling forms of dragons like those they had lived amongst in the Cardia Isles. Leslie kept shaking her head, eyes flicking from serpentine form to serpentine form. “No,” she whispered hoarsely. “I can’t—not these.”

Josh hadn’t seen the girl this shaken up in a long time and acted on instinct, putting an arm around her. Of all of them, she’d been the closest to the dragons, so this twisted distortion of the caves beneath Cardia would rattle her the most.

One of the pacing reptiles—a blue-scaled one that looked too much like Cyril—approached them, but as soon as they made eye contact, the form flickered and shifted, twisting and shrinking until the once-familiar form resembled the thunder-wielding dragons they’d fought in the mirage tower. The dragon inhaled sharply, and Josh reacted quickly, shifting position so that he was between Leslie and the threat, lifting his shield to block the incoming bolts.

When the two raised their head, they found that Zach had taken the opportunity to get under the dragon’s guard and thrust upward into the beast’s neck, killing it. Leslie flinched as the carcass hit the ground, beyond grateful that it didn’t shift back to the form where it resembled Cyril.

“Well done,” the distorted Dragon King intoned from behind him, “but you still have to defeat three green dragons, two zombie dragons, five yellow dragons, and four white dragons.”

Leslie winced, fighting back a sob, and Josh pulled her closer, edging her as far away from the throne as he could. The three boys exchanged look, realizing just how hard this was going to be for the white wizard, but also that it was the only way they could move forward.

It never got easier—through every battle the girl was fighting back tears, and every time the dark Bahamut updated them on how many more dragons they had to kill, she flinched as though his very words struck her. Through it all, Josh kept as close to her as possible, often putting a hand or arm on her shoulder, offering her what little comfort he could.

* * *

When they finally made it to the next level, Leslie collapsed to her knees, finally letting the tears out that she’d held back. Josh and her brother knelt on either side of her, but rather than sobs, it was quiet, more restrained. After a final, shaky breath, Leslie looked up, wiping the last of the tears from her eyes. “Th-thanks. I think I’m good now.”

Josh dared to hug the girl, while Matt gave her a sympathetic glance, hand resting briefly on her arm.

“How touching,” a mechanical voice intoned. All four whirled to face one of the weirdest sights they’d yet to face—a mechanical wormhole with a mouth. “And yet, it will do nothing to end the inevitable.”

Josh glanced at Leslie, silently asking if she was up for another fight so soon. In response, she merely hoisted her hammer, a spark of electricity running down the head.

It was a tough fight, but Leslie found it almost therapeutic. There was no reason for her to hesitate, no mocking creature taking the form of a friend, there were only the three boys standing beside her, fighting together, her job to protect.

It was a tough fight, but in some ways, it was easy.

* * *

A few layers onward, they found themselves sitting in the middle of a large canoe, with the twins up front and the football players in the back. They were so surprised by their ‘landing pad’ that it took them a moment to realize what it was they were rowing past and through—a destroyed and flooded village.

“What happened here?” Zach asked, stunned, but it was Leslie who asked the more worrying question:

“And was anyone here when it happened?”

Neither question seemed to have an answer, however, and the silence weighed heavily on the four. The two pairs conversed in low tones just to break the oppressive quiet.

Matt glanced sideways at his sister, not having missed how close Josh had hovered during the trials in the cave of the Dark Bahamut. “Look, I know this is awkward, and might not even be my place, but I think you have an admirer—a serious admirer. I’m not going to tell you what to do about it, but my advice is to consider how you feel and how you want to respond. And I’d do it pretty soon, because the poor guy has got to be wondering how you’ll react.”

Leslie nodded silently, not trusting herself to answer aloud, but already starting to take his advice. How did she feel about Josh? He’d been kind and supportive from the moment they’d woken up in this frightening world; he’d saved her and Matt in battle more times than she could count; he’d even been one of the first to tell her he believed she could do and be something important.

But it wasn’t just that—there was also the conversation on the roof in Melmond when he’d admitted his fear of leadership, and she’d had to be strong for him, or all the times she’d had to heal massive injuries he’d sustained because he stepped in and took the blow for one of the others. He was a protector, a defender, and he had been before coming to this world, from what Zach had mentioned about Josh’s role (the center) on the football team, but since coming he’d grown immensely, and grown more comfortable taking charge and taking responsibility.

He was someone she could look up to, someone she could trust—yes, someone she’d need to help from time to time, but still...

...He was someone she could see herself falling for.

* * *

Not that she told the knight in question about this realization, though, not even after they’d left the desolate place behind and passed through several other layers. No, as much as she trusted her brother’s observation skills in general, the risk was just too great this time to take the initiative.

After all, if Matt was wrong, her saying something could cause a setback in the team’s bonds at the very moment when it was crucial that they strengthen them. And after all, Josh could just be overly nice or chivalrous, or it could be that she was the only girl in the group, but upon their return he’d focus on girls than ran in his circles at school, rather than a social nobody like her.

The white wizard didn’t think that the boy in question was necessarily that type, but a voice in the back of her mind kept pointing out it _was_ a possibility, and a good enough reason to hold her tongue, for the moment.

* * *

Twenty layers down, they found themselves standing on a short path, facing two arches, with yet another poem between them.

_Fire and water here reside;  
_ _Pick your path and choose a side.  
_ _Burn, Drown, or Live—your choice to make,  
_ _Will your choice be wise or a big mistake?_

“Okay, _now_ they’re just taunting us,” Matt grumbled under his breath as he read the cryptic message. “But it looks like we have our choice of elements again. Preferences?”

“Water,” Zach answered quickly. As the others looked at the resident ‘fire guy’ (who’d nearly drowned the last time they faced a water challenge) in surprise, he rushed to explain: “Look, I know that breathing was an issue last time, but we’ve prepped Aeliana’s spell this time, so we’re a lot safer on that front than we are from being burnt alive. It’s basic strategy.”

He had a point, so their choice was made.

The creature they now faced was definitely mechanical, but did not share the design sensibilities of the corrupted Lufenian robots they’d fought through the Mirage Tower. The metallic behemoth attacked first, rather than taunt, forcing the team to scramble.

The first attack was a powerful energy beam that had Zach and Matt diving to one side, Josh and Leslie to the other. The wizards cast their usual boosting spells as the fighters charged, but the four-legged robot smashed the ground with one appendage, causing a miniature earthquake that knocked the two athletes backwards.

While the two boys were still dazed, the mechanical monstrosity turned its digital attention on the twins, firing the energy beam again in two quick pulses. Both siblings dodged the first attempt, but another earthquake attack sent Leslie tumbling, unable to recover before the next beam attack.

Joh, who’d just regained his feet, felt like time slowed down. The dark-haired girl was just begging to pull herself upright as the beam cannon fired off another bone-rattling pulse. There was only one thing he had time to do—throwing himself into a flying leap, he intercepted the path of the beam. The impact of the energy felt like a 200-lb defensive lineman had drilled their helmet into his chest with the full weight of their body and momentum behind it, and the energy itself was blisteringly hot, threatening to melt his armor onto his body. When he final crashed to the floor after the machine changed its focus yet again, he was barely conscious and barely breathing.

Leslie stared in horror, rushing to his side before her brain caught up with her body—not that it would have stopped her. She had to cast a powerful healing spell—and fast!—before the robot resumed its devastating assault.

Unfortunately, the more powerful her healing spells were, the longer the chanting had to be. Still, she _had _to try, tuning out the sounds of fighting that told her that her brother and Zach will still alive and going, focusing on nothing but the boy in front of him and keeping him alive.

Josh felt his broken bones mending, and the pain from burns fade away. He opened his eyes to see Leslie standing above him, her white and red robes torn, dirty, and stained from their long trek down to that level, and thin wisps her dark brown hair escaping from her ponytail floating in frizzy clumps about her smudged and dirty face, and thought he’d never seen anyone more beautiful.

“Are you okay?” Leslie asked, her musical voice heavy with concern. “Is there an injury I missed?”

Before he could answer, the cavern lit up with one of the most intense flares of light the four had seen. When it faded, their deadly foe was nothing more than a slag heap.

“Nice!” they heard Zach cheer. “You finally got a handle on that ‘Flare’ spell, Meyers!”

Josh tuned out the black wizard’s reply as he realized he hadn’t answered Leslie’s question. “I-I’m fine: alive and fully healthy—thanks to you.”

“Well, you saved my life, too,” she replied, suddenly blushing and looking away, “so I guess that makes us even.”

“You’re amazing—you know that, right?” Josh wasn’t sure where the words came from, but he did mean them. The hazel eyes flew back to meet his own, widening in surprise, and the knight found himself rambling. “‘Cause it seems like you don’t, sometimes. You’ve always talked about yourself like you’re the weakest link, but even before the Sunken Shrine, we all knew you were the strongest of all of us. And it’s not just your magic, it’s who you are—the way you can stop us from fighting, the way you helped me in Melmond, or when you told me about trying to protect us...” He was suddenly cut off as Leslie closed the rest of the distance between them and kissed him.

Leslie wasn’t sure where the sudden impulse—much less the courage it took to act on it—had come from, and would have pulled back, except that Josh started kissing her back, and that realization silenced the doubting voice in the back of her head at last.

Zach and Matt looked over at the two, both surprised and trying to cover. “Did you know that was coming?” Zach asked at last, trying to act nonchalant.

“He’s your best friend,” Matt pointed out, only to be shot down by Zach’s retort:

“Yeah, but she’s _your_ sister.”


	20. Wind's in the East

_“Winds in the east, mist coming in, like somethin' is brewin' and ‘bout to begin. Can't put me finger on what lies in store, but I fear what's to happen all happened before.” (Mary Poppins)_

* * *

Finally, there was one elemental center left: Whisperwind Cove, which was located down a tributary of one of the rivers that spread out, web-like, from Crescent Lake. Once again, the exterior—another humble cave—melted away as soon as they entered, replaced by a floor that could’ve been stolen straight from the Flying Fortress itself.

Josh was a little tired—even that early—after he and Leslie had stayed up much later than usual the night before, talking about where they were and about their families back home.

_Maybe not the best idea the night before a long quest begins, but it wasn’t like we planned to stay up almost all night._

He soon had cause to wake up, however, when the party was set upon by enemies they’d not encountered the likes of before. It was as if the air elementals they’d battled in Tiamat’s fortress had encased themselves in tough, magic-resistant rock armor that only Josh’s swing could break through, but the elemental itself was still weak only to the black wizard’s magic. Every battle, then, was a tag-team effort between the two boys.

Josh had wondered how the younger boy would react to the new relationship between his sister and the knight, but as they battled their way to the first staircase, the few things the younger twin said were all about the fights.

_Somehow, that doesn’t reassure me._

* * *

A few levels onward, they found themselves in an open glade carpeted in springtime wildflowers, the air around them nearly as thick with fairies much like the one they’d received the Oxyale from.

One of the prismatic creatures flew up to Zach, smiling at the red wizard. When the boy returned the smile, however, the tiny pixie slapped him, and Matt jerked back in surprise. “She drained your magic energy!” He yelped in surprise as the older boy turned a pale, wan face to him.

“Thanks, Meyers—I hadn’t noticed!”

A second fairy approached them, and all three wizards leaned away, but this one only waved a hand and restored the energy that had been stolen from Zach. “Sorry about the misunderstanding—some of us don’t communicate well with humans, and some of our evil sisters have disguised themselves and walk among us. Sadly, you will have as many enemies as friends in Fey-Home.”

It was a dangerous trek indeed through the glade, made only slightly easier when Leslie and Zach began to recognize patterns in both the chirps and body language that the fairies used to communicate with each other. Neither wizard was able to fully translate or communicate, but between the two of them, they made it to the next layer with a minimum of incident.

...Except for the fire-fairy that set Zach’s hat ablaze after he accidentally insulted her.

* * *

The tenth layer in had a terrifying surprise for them: a bulbous, purple-skinned creature, that caught them off-guard as it slammed its full weight into Zach with a sickening crunching sound.

Josh charged forward with a shout of outrage, driving the creature away from his friend with a flurry of blows as Leslie cast the strongest healing spell she could muster. The girl was terrified to realize that it was almost too late despite her quick reaction time.

Matt’s magic had little effect, even his strongest spell, so after he boosted the two physical fighters, he use the healing staff they’d picked up to help save his sister a little magical energy. Even with all of them functioning at the top of their game, it was a long, brutal fight before a fully-restored Zach landed the kill-blow.

* * *

Fortunately, the next two layers were quiet and relatively easy, giving the exhausted and battered team of heroes time to recover their strength and magical energy. The third layer on however, proved to be a little...different.

...Not because it was a purple-tinted forest—things like that had stopped surprising them—but because of what they discovered the first time they ran into one of the purple flames dotted around the maze-like area. To their surprise, it spoke with a thick, slow voice tight with pain.

“Dying...Hurts...Where...my...club?”

Leslie jerked back, surprised. “An ogre?” she asked quietly. Josh and Matt gave her an odd look, but Zach could sense what she did, too—this was the departed soul of a monster.

“...What’s left of one, anyway. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I feel sorry for it.”

Suddenly, the flame morphed into a translucent figure of a purple-skinned ogre that swung it’s surprisingly-solid club at them. Leslie cast a protect spell to block it, and a flame spell from Zach evaporated the apparition.

It wasn’t an isolated incident—either. All of the flames were the final remains of monsters, and none of them could shake the feeling these were specific monsters they’d battled and slain. All cried out about the pain they were in—some of the more articulate mentioned being stuck. Most of the fights came down to Zach and Leslie’s magic, since the knight’s sword went straight through the ghost-like figures without harming them. Still, the ghosts weren’t particularly strong, and the battles not physically or magically difficult.

Still, they all struggled with the moral implication, especially the white wizard. “We killed them once—are we destroying their souls now?”

“I don’t think so,” Zach put in, trying to be helpful. “I think these particular ones got stuck in limbo. We’re not destroying them—we’re freeing them.”

Leslie didn’t seem convinced, but they didn’t have much choice, as all possible ways were blocked by what remained of their fallen foes. When at last they reached the stairs to let them move on, she cast one last look over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, before following the others.

* * *

Further on, they encountered a first in the elemental centers—an area not only devoid of monsters, but with a functioning town, complete with item shop and sanctuary. Naturally, this was met with suspicion at first—it seemed just too good to be true.

“I think it’s for real,” Josh decided at last. “There’s no weapons shop—and no one carries any. Unless they’re in disguise, no one here poses a physical threat.”

“No disguise spells, either,” Matt put in. “The only magic present is the residual background energy that’s all over these places. He’s right—we’re safe.”

They were—but that didn’t help them make any more sense of it, other than Zach’s understatement: “These ‘elemental centers’ sure are weird.”

* * *

The weirdness only continued a few levels onward when a giant, purple, squid-like creature rose from the floor like it was water and tried to attack them. Due to its over-large size, the party expected a difficult battle.

In reality, it only took a few solid hits and two thunderbolts on the part of Matt to turn the squid into calamari, and the surprised heroes watched as the corpse sank back beneath the floor like it was the ocean swallowing it up. Tentatively, they moved forward, but when they walked over the same area, it was rock as solid as the rest of the cavern.

This time, it was the black wizard who summed up what they were all thinking:

“I just don’t get it.”

* * *

The ever-shifting, ever-surprising floors just kept continuing, longer by far than any of the other elemental centers, and it was clear this one had sole claim to the title of strangest of the four.

For instance: the next town they encountered that seemed to be entirely populated by young children playing some kind of ‘find-the-odd-man-out’ game. It didn’t seem that weird, at first, until they realized that every door they opened took them to a completely different part of the maze-like village.

“I’ve got a headache just trying to keep track of these kids—and now this place is _making _us get lost?” Josh complained. To his surprise, he got the most support from Matt. As for the other two...

Leslie shrugged. “I’ll admit to being confused, but the kids aren’t that bad—nothing’s attacking, and they say they’ll help us if we play their game.

“And I think I’ve cracked the pattern,” Zach admitted, proceeding to explain a route so convoluted, the others merely stared at him with incomprehension. “Look—just follow me. Leslie, do you remember what kid we’re looking for?”

“Orange hair!” she replied promptly.

Between the two wizards, the boy in question was located in less than five more minutes, and then it was just a matter of getting back to the child who was ‘it’ to learn from him where the exit to the next area was.

“It’s in the room right behind me!” the little imp answered cheerfully, leaving the four older teens all groaning inwardly—and at least two of them outwardly—as he ran off to join his friends for the next game.

* * *

What they found on the next layer was so disturbing, it made an eternity of being force to play games with the children from that twisted town seem like a pleasant fate.

It was yet another village, but this one was apparently stuck in a permanent twilight, full of citizens in ragged clothing, curled up on the ground, groaning in pain, seeming to wither away before the horrified eyes of the four heroes.

“Please, help us!” one little girl—no older than five or six—managed to cry out as Leslie knelt beside her, but that was as articulate as the unfortunates could be.

Leslie, almost frantic at the sight of such suffering, tried every healing and anti-poison spell in her repertoire, only to find they had absolutely no effect. “Who’s doing this?” she demanded, fighting back tears, barely even registering the comforting arm Josh tried to put around her shoulder. “What’s killing them?”

As if in answer, a high-pitched whistle rent the air, and a powerful beam cut through the ever-present loom, baring down at them. Zach looked up, and it was a tribute to the overwhelming air of nonsense pervading that place that his reaction came out in a perfect, dry deadpan: “A ghost train. Of course—we must fight a train.”

“Ghost train you say?” Leslie asked before attempting to unleash her strongest anti-undead spell, which had no effect. “Guess it’s just a train for ghosts then,” she muttered angrily as she boosted her friends’ defense.

The others were a little taken aback—they’d never seen the white wizard so bloodthirsty, for lack of a better word, but then they remembered the little girl’s blue eyes wide with pain and fear, and felt their own rage grow. So what if they didn’t know these people—if they weren’t even (strictly speaking) real? There was still suffering all around them, and they’d do everything in their power to end it.

Josh and Zach dodged each to one side of the train as it sped towards them, Zach finding Matt behind him, Josh backed by the still-furious Leslie. The two physical fighters hacked at the wheels the cars—anything they could reach. By far it was the strangest battle they’d yet faced, especially as the train constantly changed directions in an attempt to mow them over—it was quite agile for such a large behemoth.

Suddenly Josh had to blink spots from his eyes as Leslie unleashed a spell he’d never seen before. He could only assume it was the Holy spell he told him about—the strongest white magic there was, that could harm anything of evil origins, undead or not.

There was a screech of metal that could’ve been mistaken for a cry of pain, then the train faded away. What was left in its wake was a sunny day in a pleasant village, populated by happy bustling people that had only the barest resemblance to the half-withered husks the teens had first encountered. The only confirmation that the townsfolk were even aware what had happened came right as the Warriors of Light found the exit stairs—that little girl ran up to them, threw her arms around Leslie’s waist in a hug, whispered, “Thank you, miss,” then ran off back to her mother.

And if the white wizard was wiping a tear from her eye as they moved onward—well, none of the guys would’ve blamed her.

* * *

Later on, they found themselves in a cavern full of dwarves—each of whom wanted something that another had, but would only trade for the object that _he_ wanted. The four youths would’ve been tempted to walk past and ignore them, but the last one wouldn’t move from where he blocked the exit until he got a particular sandwich.

It had all the makings of a long, difficult, and frustrating afternoon, but for two facts: 1. The dwarves seemed particularly fond of Josh, inclined to listen to him (it had something to do with them recognizing the sword he carried as being made by the best dwarf smith there was) and 2. Matt’s impressive memory allowed him to perfectly recall which dwarf need/wanted what after a few minutes of talking to each them. Using his mental list and Josh’s ability to get the quarrelsome cave-dwellers to listen, a giant trade-exchange was finally arranged, leaving everyone satisfied, and the way out unblocked at last.

Zach shook his head, impressed. “Have the two of you ever considered a career in crisis negotiation?”

* * *

On the last floor—a full forty layers from the surface, they were set upon by an undead, bat-like creature that swooped own on them, screeching at a pitch jut high enough to cause them severe headaches. Zach and Leslie traded off the defense boost spells to get them done that much faster, then, on an instinct, Zach shouted over to Leslie: “Think you can Silence it?”

“Worth a try,” was the answer. One muttered spell alter, it turned out the red wizard’s guess had been right—the Silence spell was just as effective as stopping hi-frequency bat cries as it was an argument between teenage guys.

Meanwhile, Matt and Josh had taken up a tag-team approach to the offense. Matt cast a thunder spell at the blade of Excalibur just as Josh landed a hit to the creature’s body, dealing both magical and physical damage. While the bat-thing was still reeling from that, Josh moved to one side. As the thing tried to focus on what he saw as the bigger threat, it opened up its back for a strike from Matt’s wickedly sharp knife, which managed to shred a wing and ground the creature. A fire spell from Zach ended both the monster and the battle.

The four teens faced each other, looking from face to face, this time not even having to ask what part of their teamwork had been strengthened. As exhausted, drained, and confused as Whisper-Wind Cove had left them, they’d never felt more ready to face Chaos once and for all.

Hopefully, this time, they’d win.


	21. Back to the Beginning Again

_“And the oceans roar, and the wheel's in spin, and the old chorus soars—bring me back—bring me back to the beginning again!” (Switchfoot, ‘Back to the Beginning Again’)_

* * *

They’d started some of the most important preparations—their goodbyes—before venturing into Earth-Gift Shrine, though there were a few others the four teens felt deserved a final word, however the battle would turn out. There was a stop in Melmond, in which Josh took Nathan aside one last time, encouraging him and his friends to keep on the better track. Zach also spared a few words for the town leaders, encouraging them to help their less fortunate neighbors with the restoration. Maybe they would, maybe they wouldn’t, but at least he’d done what he could.

They also stopped by Onrac, Gaia, and Mt. Duregar, as well as one last stop in Cardia before returning to Crescent Lake to see Lukahn, who had no more information for them, but whom they felt they owed at least a farewell to. All of this was done while they made any stops necessary to unload necessary items, replace them with as many healing potions and brews to restore magical energy as they could carry, as well as any final magic or equipment upgrades they could manage. They saved their true farewell trip to Cornelia for the end—they wanted their last goodbye to be to their first friend, and even the old shop owner was a bit misty-eyed as he watched the four youths leave his shop for one last time.

When they finally landed their airship in front of the shrine itself, there was one last farewell and one last matter of business to see to.

As they’d discussed the night before, the four heroes said individual, personal goodbyes to every single member of the crew that’d been with them for so much of their adventure before coming to stand before their captain. The old seafarer looked at them warily.

“I can understand that me an’ the boyos can’t fight this monsters with yeh young’ns—some things are for the heroes to do alone—but why don’t yeh want us here to escort yeh home in style when you finally beat this Chaos feller?”

They’d never been able to make him understand about being from another world—he’d thought they’d meant another part of the planet that’d been magically sealed off by the appearance of the Fiends that he’d be able to fly them to after the battle. They were surprised—given that fact—at how quickly he’d accepted the concept of a time loop, but were beginning to realize the implications thereof hadn’t sunk in. This forced them to water down the truth a bit.

Josh shook his head slowly. “Even if we win, Captain Gunther, there’s no coming back for us. Once we go into this shrine, we’re either walking out back at home, or not at all. There won’t be any time for flying in style—as much as we’d prefer that.”

“Captain?” Leslie asked after a moment of silence in which the four could almost see the truth sinking in as the older man’s face fell. “Can we make one last request of you?”

“Anything, lass,” the old man said, his crew nodding mutely behind him.

Leslie glanced at the others, who nodded. They wanted to think this time would be different, but if it wasn’t, they had to be prepared. “We need you to take _Burning Bolt_ back to the desert where we found it, take out the Levistone again, and leave the airship there. Hide the Levistone in the ice cave—it should be clear of monsters, now. Then reclaim the _Pravoka’s Pride, _and return to the life you love—the sea.”

“We will, I can promise yeh that,” Gunther said at last, the whole crew nodding behind him. “Traveling with the four of yeh made me realize I never should’ve retired from sailin’—the sea’s where I belong. And I promise yeh, every time we take the _Pravoka’s Pride _into her home harbor or out through the Aldi Canal, we’ll think of yeh—every one of us.”

The rest of the goodbyes were short after that, and eventually the four teens stood alone in front of the crumbling temple, gazes fixed upwards as Gunther and crew left them behind for the last time. There was no turning back, now.

* * *

After the airship left them behind, none of them felt up to plunging into dark depths right away, so they broke out the last of their food supplies, built a fire, and prepared one last meal together. It was silent at first, each chewing on worries and dark thoughts as much as on the food, but this was not how Leslie wanted to feel going into face their final battle.

“Have you guys thought about what’ll be like, being back at home after all of this? We’re not going to be able to go back to how it was before.”

Josh looked at her, half-surprised, half-thoughtful. “Well, yeah. But will that be such a bad thing? I mean, honestly—the way we were before, we wouldn’t have ever met, but going back, we’ll be a couple.” As soon as he said the words, he shot a worried glance at her brother, who only shrugged as if to say he’d come to terms with the fact.

“I’ll admit,” the black wizard put in, “it’ll be nice to be free of this stupid hat-and-veil-of-darkness, and I’m going to be glad about seeing Mom and Dad again, but there are some parts I’m not looking forward to.”

Both football players looked embarrassed at the subtle reference to the bullying, but the more they thought about their friend being the target of their teammates, the angrier they got. “Hey, man, I’ve got a deal for you,” Zach said at last, “We’ll get those bozos off of your back if you help the debate team—it’s our one competitive club or team that gets slaughtered in every competition.”

Matt genuinely considered the offer and, for once, it had appeal. “I think that might actually be fun, but—you guys do realize I’m not the only one they pick on, yeah?”

“Leave that to me—the captain of the team has some weight and authority, and, if need be, I can take it up with coach. Besides, if they care about the game so much, they really should be more focused on it then, yeah?” Josh asked, already thinking of ways to use his position to bring the bullies in question into line.

Without really thinking about it, all three boys turned to Leslie, as if asking what she would do differently “I don’t think I can fade back into the background after how I’ve grown here, but I wasn’t the only invisible student at school. It takes one to know one—and I can attest that sometimes all you need is to know that someone sees you, someone cares.”

Their food finished, all stood, standing to face the physical representation of the final challenge still squatting in front of them.

“Well,” Zach chirped at last, “it’s gonna be great, but we’ve got a job to do first. To business?”

“To business!” the others agreed in unison, before laughing in genuine humor and excitement—a foreign sound to be sure, on the threshold of Chaos.

* * *

At first, the crumbling shrine looked like nothing had changed since their first foray months before—even the monsters were the same, though now much easier for the battle-hardened teens to defeat. They were able to march in, more-or-less unchallenged to the chamber where they’d fought Garland, staring at the one object they’d not noticed before: an orb that pulsed with darkness instead of light.

“That’s a lot of bad magic rolling off of that thing,” Zach observed. “Wanna bet that’s the key to the time loop?”

“I certainly won’t bet on the opposite being true,” Matt muttered.

As the four stepped closer, the orb seemed to react to their crystals, sparking, hissing, and extending its twisted aura. It was clear—one more step would be the point of no return. One more shared look, one more nod of agreement, and that last step was taken.

* * *

At first, other than the restored and cleaned look to the building, nothing seemed too different—nothing to tell them they were more than 2,000 years into the past of that strange world, until they realized that the front and back half of the building was now separated by a dark barrier of pulsing energy. 

Matt frowned. “If Garland _needs_ us to keep the time loop going, would he really put up a barrier?”

“He needs to _defeat_ us—maybe he’s put up challenges to weaken and tire us,” his sister postulated.

The tried weapons and both types of magic, but nothing seemed to budge it. Josh looked over at the two other boys. “You’re kind of our resident magic experts. Got any bright ideas?”

“No,” Zach responded, “but I do have a crazy one.”

“In lieu of anything better, we’ll hear you out,” Matt answered, gesturing for the taller boy to go on.

“I took a look once at that lute Princess Sara gave you, after we first killed Garland. It’s got some pretty powerful light magic behind it. Not white magic—_light_, as in the opposite of dark. As in...”

“...As in the opposite of this barrier,” Matt finished. “Do any of us actually know how to play a lute, though?”

Josh pulled out the instrument (which he’d never had the heart to sell), staring at it with some trepidation. He plucked one string, and the instrument responded by slowly, though with increasing speed, playing a tune all on its own. “A player lute? Like a player piano?” Josh guessed.

Whatever it was, it was the right thing to do, for the barrier fell and allowed the Warriors of Light to trek ever closer to their fate.

* * *

The first basement level of the Shrine—which apparently _had_ a basement, now—was architecturally familiar to the four teens. The carved, tan walls that glowed with a sickly yellow lights, the rough, unhewn floor was coated in dust and dirt, and the whole atmosphere smelled like a long-sealed tomb: in other words, the floor could’ve been a level straight out of the Cavern of the Earth.

Also like its predecessor, this twisting, maze-like cavern held treasure chests and mosnters alike in unexpected locations—though admittedly a lot more monsters than chests. Still, even despite the high concentration of feral foes, the Warriors of Light made steady progress, a testament to how their adventures and training had made them stronger than they’d ever dreamed possible.

But when at last they came to the stairs that would carry them closer to their ultimate foe, a true challenge loomed before them in the resurrected form of the first Fiend they ever faced—Lich, the Undead Fiend of Earth. He grinned at the last and only humans to defeat him (again, as a skeleton, he had little choice) as he waited for them to approach, a new, wicked-looking saber in his bony hands.

Lich locked his empty eye sockets on each in turn, lingering over Zach the longest. “So, my brother and sisters told the truth—the little red mageling who thought he was _so_ funny survived after all. This is an oversight I shall correct: all four shall fall here, and I will raise your carcasses for Father Chaos to trap within your precious crystals. Prepare for an eternity of pain and despair!”

“The only oversight that needs to be corrected is that you were allowed to come back and keep monologue-ing!” Josh shot back, hefting Excalibur, sizing up their opponent. “And this, time, we know what we have to do to win. Come on, guys!”

They fell into the formation they knew so well—Josh in point, the Meyers’ siblings bringing up the rear, and Zach holding the middle in between. This was their magical formation, since Zach remembered all too well how his magic was much more effective against the undead fiend than his sword. He helped the twins with the boosting spells before launching fireball after fireball at the giant skeleton.

Unfortunately, Lich had also apparently learned from their previous battle. He deflected the first three flames off of his sword blade then cast a spell of his own, targeting the red wizard first, then Leslie and Matt in short order. Josh heard their voices cut off and spared a moment to assure himself that it hadn’t been anything stronger than the Silence spell. Before he could counter-act the magic, the sabre flashed in a downward arc, intending to cleave him in two.

He jumped backward, lifting his own blade to parry, then tried to twist the thinner sword away to open up his own line of attack, but Lich was just too fast, and instead of being able to counter, Josh found himself on the receiving end of a pommel-strike to the chest that knocked him backward, nearly winding him.

“Not much use without your magical little friends, now are you?” Lich taunted

“Maybe not,” Josh granted, “so it’s good we all have each other’s back.” While Lich hesitated, sensing a trick, the knight rattled off a counter spell three times, freeing up his friends to resume the offensive.

Lich howled in outrage, then in pain as Leslie’s and Zach’s spells hit home, hammering away and chipping the bones until they fell apart all together, clattering as if the Fiend of Earth no longer had the strength to hold them together. Only the skull still had a vestige of life in it, until Josh deliberately crushed it underfoot. He wanted to move on quickly, but Leslie convinced him to wait until she healed his bruised ribs, and Zach took the time to claim Lich’s saber for himself.

“What? Last time hurt—why shouldn’t I take it?”

* * *

As expected, the next level had the pulsing red walls, the fiery lava floors, and sulfuric atmosphere of Mt. Gulg’s deepest depths, and flame-based creatures lurked there just as thickly as before. While the lava dwellers posed no large threat or challenge to the battle-hardened team, they all knew now a greater challenge was coming at the end of the volcanic tunnel.

Sure enough, the six-armed, serpent-tailed form of Marilith blocked the stairs, her cherry-red face parted by a predatory grin. “At last! Father Chaos insisted you be taken alive—but he said I may unleash any amount of torment on you as I see fit. Now you will know the pain I felt!”

Josh and Zach moved in front of the other wizards, ready to take up the physical offense, but the Fiend of Fire was faster, opening her mouth and breathing a column of fire at the black wizard—the one who had been responsible for killing her. Matt tried to dodge, but the searing flames caught him across the back.

As the blistering pain registered, the younger boy couldn’t rest screaming out in pain and shock.

“HEY!” Zach shouted, moving between the Fiend and her target, acting on a hunch and using Lich’s blade to deflect the column of fire. Sure enough, the blade was made to resist heat and fire, turning aside Marilith’s vicious attack. “I’m the one with the fire crystal, so how about you lay off my friends and pay attention to the real threat!”

As his sister saw to the wound on his back, Matt watched in awe as the red wizard launched a flurry of blows, forcing the Fiend back almost single-handedly. Even Marilith seemed taken aback, reeling under the furious assault before rallying with a counter of her own. Josh tried to block most of it, but one saber got past the knight’s guard, slicing down the red wizard’s arm.

Zach didn’t let it stop him, though. Seeing an opening, he surged forward, thrusting with his new saber. It struck home, slipping between Marilith’s ribs. He yanked upward, carving a wicked gash, then whipped his sword free as the serpent-tailed woman collapsed, as dead as cold ash.

“Fighting to kill—that’s bad enough. But enjoying causing pain? That’s just evil.”

The other three said nothing to the red wizard’s words, completely taken aback by the blazing fury he’d unleashed. As Leslie healed the sword gash on his arm, the strawberry-blonde boy actually struggled to pull himself back under control. They began to realize that, though he’d never shown his true stance on many issues before, that didn’t mean lacked any or all strong feelings.

* * *

The next floor was completely submerged, but Aeliana’s spell still held, and they could breathe well enough to go on, and well enough to fight the sea monsters that swarmed towards the humans that had invaded their territory.

It wasn’t the smaller, more numerous monsters that worried the questors. No, Leslie knew from the looks the boys cast her way when they thought she couldn’t see that they were thinking of Kraken, who was undoubtedly waiting to challenge them. None could forget their battle with them—how close the boys had come to dying, how long it had taken Leslie to recover from her magical exhaustion. If Kraken had improved his skills as much as the other fiends had, they could only hope that all they’d faced _after_ the Sunken Shrine had prepared them enough.

The bulbous, shark-toothed Fiend of Water hovered in the water, waiting, his beady fish eyes fixed on the White Wizard, filled with murderous rage. Josh reached an arm out to his girlfriend, and though she took his hand, she didn’t hide behind him, choosing instead to hold her head high and meet Kraken’s gaze steadily.

The white wizard might not have flinched, but the Fiend did, rallying a moment later and screaming as he surged forward into an attack, “You’re going to wish Father Chaos would let me kill you!”

Unexpectedly, it was Matt who stepped forward to counter the pounding attack coming their way, rattling off the strongest version of the hold spell—which actually managed to slow Kraken, though not stop him entirely. It was all the opening the three boys needed however, as they swam forward and began hacking off the squid tentacles as fast as they could, trying to minimize the damage the fiend could inflict. Matt interspersed his cutting with lightning bolts, and his sister floated up near Kraken’s head, her new hammer crackling with electricity. Kraken’s beady eyes widened in fear, but he was too late to stop the crushing blow already in motion.

It only took two hits, but the first one might as well have felled the beast, for all the damage it did. At last the carcass sank, opening up the way ahead, though there was a moment’s hesitation before they moved onwards, mostly because none of them could really believe the battle had been as simple as that.

* * *

To no one’s surprise, the next level down was the same glass-and-stone design as the Flying Fortress that had held the Wind Crystal, complete with a view of the stars if one looked out or down. Had they come here straight from their battle with the last fiend, such a sight would’ve unsettled them, would’ve made them debate and wonder whether it was an illusion or a transportation spell they hadn’t felt, but after a week of plowing through weirder labyrinths than the shrine, nothing about heading _down_stairs to go _above_ the sky fazed them at all.

At the end of it all, Tiamat crouched, all five heads watching them approach, but once again did not charge, forcing the four to come to her.

“You were a fool not to take my offer, Matt Meyers,” one head hissed.

The others flinched in surprise—Matt hadn’t told them about Tiamat knowing their names, knowing about who they were in their own world—but the black wizard had no visible reaction. “_You’re_ the fool, Tiamat—you show your hand too easily, and it’s what helped me figure out the time loop all those times ago, when this all started. Since then, we’ve been able to build on that knowledge.”

“Yet you always lose!” Tiamat countered. “Pathetic mortals! However hard you work, however _wise_ or _strong_ you think you become, you always fall like weak infants in the face of Chaos, and you _always will_.

“A time loop as you say, wizard. Then you should know that a time loop can never be escaped—you are trapped in an eternal cycle of pain, torment and despair, for nothing can defeat Chaos! Oh, you will undoubtedly vanquish me, here. Then you will think me a false prophet and march boldly onward to confront Father Chaos, unaware of how exhausted and weakened you are by battling my brethren and I, because the adrenaline pumping through your bodies at what you believe to be victories deceives you.

“He will crush you utterly, in the most painful ways possible, but he will not kill you. No—no, he will do worse than that! He will trap your souls within the crystals in such pain and torment that you will never have a moment’s peace or rest, and from that agony and despair, we the Fiends will be born of you anew and undo all that you worked so hard to accomplish, and you, trapped as you are, will be linked to us, and see it through our eyes as well as what remains of your perceptions, and you will fell our pleasure at the death and destruction, and _you will enjoy it too_, though it also sickens you to the core. 

“You will be trapped in the paradox of at once being yourself and your antithesis, and it will drive you mad, if the pain did not—mad enough to call yourselves back from the past and begin the loop again, rather than accept destruction, chaos, and ultimately, oblivion!”

“Cheerful,” Josh remarked glibly, hefting Excalibur.

Zach held up his own blade, apparently addressing his own teammates instead of the looming fined. “I stopped listening after ‘false prophet’ since that seemed to be all the relevant bits. Is it just me, or did she come back a lot more talkative this time?”

“It’s just you,” Matt replied in similar manner as he began boosting the two athletes’ speed and strength. “She was plenty talkative last time—though a lot less bitter. I’d even venture to say she’s a little miffed we killed her.”

As the final defense spell was completed and the two swordsmen charged, Leslie spared a moment to glance at her brother. “Apparently, she should get used to it—it seems to happen on a regular basis.”

This time, Tiamat had one head each focused on the physical attacks, with a third supporting the one in most danger, switching constantly and forcing Josh and Zach to stay alert, while _two_ heads focused on the twins—one each, forcing the siblings apart. Matt’s glare hardened when he realized Tiamat’s strategy. She was trying to injure Leslie, cause her pain, all to rattle _him_ and weaken him. He held a knife in each hand, and even as he stabbed and sliced at the head attacking him, he shouted spells aimed at the one snapping at his sister.

Leslie, for her part, was managing to keep the head at bay well enough with the sparking hammer she carried—not as strategic and targeted as her brother’s knife blades, but with a lot more strength and force behind them. No, her concern was that she had absolutely no time to cast any kind of healing spells, and Tiamat had managed to land a few stray bites on the twins and more on the football players. If Leslie couldn’t start casting again, soon, Tiamat’s prediction might just come true after all.

Suddenly, the battered and bruised head whipped sideways, then curved back in, finally getting past the hammer and catching the white wizard in the chest, knocking the girl flat and cracking a few ribs. While Leslie was still trying to catch her breath, what remained of that head’s jagged fangs (many had gotten knocked out when one of the hammer-blows had caught the hydra full on the mouth) sank into her shoulder, biting down with crushing force.

Matt—who had finally gotten a knife strike in the right pace to dispatch the head that’d been fighting him—watched, horror-stuck, the pain cross his sister’s face, but he couldn’t risk a spell at that range, since his strongest spells affected whole areas and would hit Leslie as well as Tiamat. No, this he’d have to fight with his knives. The black wizard charged, and though the fifth head swung to intercept him, he blasted it with the Flare spell and kept running as Tiamat tried to pick up Leslie by the fangs still sunk in the girls shoulder. To her credit, Leslie was struggling and putting up a fight, even though her mangled arm couldn’t hold her hammer anymore.

Desperately, Matt launched one of his knives at the base of Tiamat’s skull, silently apologizing to Josh for all the numerous, bitter complaints he’d lodged when the other boy had tried to teach him this trick. It flew true, and the neck and head dropped, limply. From the corner of his eye, Matt saw his sister stand and start the healing spells, but he’d already turned on his heel, determined that the Fined of Wind would do no more injury to his sister or friends, aiming a final Flare spell, this one at the main bulk of Tiamat’s body. The spell struck true, and what remained of the blue-scaled hydra was incinerated, leaving the three others staring at the black wizard, who, despite the raging fury blazing in his glowing yellow eyes, spoke calmly to the defeated fiend.

“You were right—time loops _can’t_ be escaped. However, they _can_ be broken, and that’s what we intend to do.”

* * *

As used as they were to the shifting, alternating floors that harked back to their prior journeys, the return to the Chaos Shrine’s normal architecture actually came as a shock to the questors—for some reason, they’d expected something a little more...dramatic, for the realm of Chaos. Even more surprising is that they were able to walk up to the door of the only room on that floor unaccosted by mosnters—apparently their enemy wanted to defeat them himself, or else he simply couldn’t stand the presence of lesser mosnters.

At the door they paused, and Leslie dispersed helping potions and the restorative tonics. Tiamat’s words weighed on them, and they were determined not to go into their final battle at anything less than their full strength. That done, they glanced at each other, but found there was nothing more to say—either this time they would win, and make good on the promises already made, or they would spend the next 2,000 years in agony and despair, hoping that some later/earlier versions of themselves would finally break the cycle.

Wordlessly, then, and in unison, they moved through the doorway to find the figure waiting for them still looked very much like Garland, despite Lukahn’s warning that Chaos would be unrestricted by human form or weaknesses. The armored figure turned, seeming to be neither surprised nor worried.

“You’re late,” an echoing, inhuman voice chided from within the all-concealing helmet. “We expected you over a week ago—I nearly had a rebellion on my hands from Marilith and Kraken. One would be tempted to say you didn’t want to play your part in our little drama here.” They didn’t rise to the taunt, and the echoing voice adopted a tone of mock surprise. “What—no clever quips? Did you use them all up on the Fiends? I must say, I’m disappointed—I wanted to see what passed for human wit this time around. Do I not get a single word—I, your true enemy?”

“Only two:” Josh answered, no humor in his tone or face. “Never again!” With that, the four slipped into formation and held their ground, daring Chaos to come to them.

The armored figure obliged, hoisting a broadsword even bigger than the one that Garland had used against them, the whole blade inscribed with archaic runes. Josh met the first strike, twisting it aside and thrusting, but Chaos was gone, reappearing behind Zach before the lanky boy could turn. The broadsword came crashing down, and the only things that saved Zach’s life were his friends’ warning shouts and a sideways roll, though the blade still caught his left arm, nearly severing it.

Josh tried to charge Chaos, hoping to draw his attention away from Zach long enough for Leslie to heal the red wizard, but Chaos vanished again, reappearing ten feet to his left, with a laugh and a cry of “Too slow, boy!”

Josh turned, silently grateful that the move had at least given the white wizard the opening she needed to help Zach. Chaos teleported again, this time right behind Josh, who swung his sword backwards, having expected something like this. He felt the adamantite blade pierce Chaos’s armor just as the flat of the archaic broadsword struck him and sent him tumbling. When he regained his feet, Chaos had moved away again, one gauntleted hand pressed to his side, his whole form radiating outrage.

“For the embodiment of Chaos itself,” Josh spat, starting breathe hard, “You sure are predictable!”

Chaos made no reply, but continued his constant vanishing, hit-and-run tactics, clearly making an effort to never stay in range of the twins for longer than it took to attack Zach or Josh, seeming to never tire despite the obvious weight of his sword and armor. In contrast, even Zach was starting to tire from the constant movement, and speed and agility came much more naturally to him than to his best friend.

Still, the two sword wielders had managed to inflict as many injuries as they received, and the black-and-silver armor was beginning to crack in places. Exhausted, Josh swung desperately when Chaos came next in range, knowing he’d have no more energy left to keep his guard up. When Excalibur made contact, the armor shattered in a golden burst, and everything around the Warriors of Light went utterly black.

When their eyes adjusted, they found themselves standing on apparently nothing, suspended over a nebula of gas and stars, staring at an inhuman, golden dragon, who hissed at them triumphantly. “You have utterly drained yourselves, leaving your precious magelings undefended, and myself in as good a health as ever. You will fall to Chaos!”

The dragon began chanting—apparently decided to change tactics with his new form, when a blast of white light caused him to reel back, roaring in pain. Matt took over chanting the next spell—Flare, if Josh was right in recognizing the incantation—while Leslie used the distraction her Holy spell had caused to do what she could to heal Zach and Josh, though their main problem was exhaustion, not wounds.

Zach tried to struggle to his feet. “Looks like he’s fighting magically; let me help with the—”

“No!” Leslie insisted. “You’re too drained. Try to keep something in reserve: rest. Something tells me this isn’t the last change he’s going to make. Let us buy you some time to recover.”

With that, she joined her brother, both twins trading off casting their most powerful spells, leaving Chaos almost no time to counter—almost. The draconian figure managed to get in a few spells, just as powerful, and had the twins not been light on their feet, the battle may have ended then and there.

“What is he doing?” Zach asked, watching. “He’s not attacking with his full strength—he’s allowing us to stay even with him!”

Josh remembered the taunt Chaos had opened this new battle with, and dread settled in the pit of his stomach. “He’s playing with us—stringing us along and tiring us out. Once we’re too exhausted to mount an effective counter attack, we’re done. You and I are almost completely wiped out, and they can’t go on like this forever—those are the strongest spells anyone can cast. It’s amazing they’ve been able to cast them as many times as they have!”

“Don’t give up now!” Zach snapped, hearing the tinge of despair in his friend’s voice. “I, for one, would like to be able to finally have the chance to tell Kristen Schoplan how I feel about her!”

Josh surprised himself by laughing—even here, in this situation, Zach could keep his cool enough to joke about girls? Or maybe he was serious? Either way, it was the proverbial slap he’d needed to get back into the fight. And just in time, too, for the dragon exploded in another burst of light, and the battle changed yet again.

Now, they were _in_ the nebula, surrounded by glowing lights, gas, and stranger things the knight couldn’t even name. The only darkness was the gaping hole, a ragged tear or mouth in the fabric of reality, like a sentient black hole, that stood before them. Somehow, they all knew it was Chaos—his true form: devouring all light, life, and hope that dared get near him.

The twins were nearing magical exhaustion, Josh and Zach had barely recovered any from the first battle, and their enemy was stronger than ever, yet the Warriors of Light refused to surrender: for their families back home, who would never know what became of them if they failed to return, for all the friends they’d made on their journey, for the world itself, though they belonged to it not, they _had_ to keep fighting, and so they would.

When Chaos spoke, his voice was stranger still—as if the words were being sucked _into_ the mouth, rather than issuing _out_ of it. “Now feel true despair as I devour your very essences and trap you in your precious crystals. There isn’t a one of you who is strong enough to beat me now! Darkness will rule—for this is the end of your precious light!”

Josh and Zach now stood between the siblings—all four warriors of Light standing shoulder-to-shoulder in a line rather than any of their normal formations—ready to face whatever happened as a single unit than as a group of individuals.

The dark gash opened wider, and all four felt like a searing knife had plunged into their core and begun to roughly dig out their organs. In that moment, their confidence wavered and doubt entered; they instinctively they grabbed for each other’s arms, and at that instant of contact, the same idea ran through the line like an electric shock.

As their leader, Josh took it upon himself to speak, fighting against the agony in his gut to keep his voice level. “Only in one way are you right, Chaos: there isn’t one of us strong enough to beat you. But there isn’t one of _us_ any more than there is one _element_. Together, we can pierce your darkness with four dawning lights becoming one.”

Matt and Leslie began chanting their strongest spells one more time. They shouldn’t have had the strength for that blast, but Josh and Zach began chanting as well, channeling what remained of their magical and physical strength into the two wizards, trying to boost the spells, and keep their friends alive, as this much magical exhaustion could be lethal.

As if sensing their plan, Chaos opened his mouth wider, and the last words of the single spell, cast in four voices, were delivered in screams of absolute agony. But the spell was finished, and a blast of pure energy, tinged with the colors of all four elements, burst through the gash that was Chaos, melting the space around it, melting reality back together and sealing Chaos into the void, where he could never return from to trouble the world.

The pain abruptly halted, and the four teens collapsed as one, with no energy left to stand, as the nebula around them faded into nothingness, then into something else...

* * *

_The time loop was severed at last...The endless struggle that raged over two thousand years had ended, and peace prevailed once more._

_The light of the four Crystals restored the forces of wind, water, earth and fire._

_It was a mere trick of fate that had given rise to the chain of Garland's wrath. But magnified by the four forces meant to guide our world, that trick of fate also gave birth to the Fiends..._

_When was this fateful day that sent time spiraling into a loop? None can say._

_It seemed the cycle into which time had fallen would last forever. But the bravery of four young travelers changed that. They took the forces that filled the world with darkness, and used them to bathe the world in light._

_None will ever recall the struggle the four endured, for the breaking of the chain means that it never existed. But within the tales of fantasy that people tell, the memory of their deeds lives on: tales of dwarves and elves, of dragons and shining civilizations that reached for the heavens even as they fell..._

Only those around whom the loop revolved would ever remember those months—that year—that never was, and all that befell the Warriors of Light during that time. Their faces and very existence faded from the memories of even dearest friends—captain and crew, weaponssmith and dragon king—with only two people in the whole world who would ever know the tale.


	22. Homeward Bound

_“I'll be homeward bound in time. Bind me not to the pasture; chain me not to the plow. Set me free to find my calling, and I'll return to you somehow.” (Homeward Bound)_

* * *

When the four teens opened their eyes, free of pain but not of confusion, the alarm on Matt’s phone was still buzzing. The dark-haired boy glanced own at the device at his feet, where he’d apparently dropped it when the crystals activated. Which meant...

“We’re back,” Leslie said simply, looking across at where the two football players stood, facing her and her brother. All four stared at each other for a second, silently asking if it had all been a crazy dream, but no—the others remembered it, too. And if that weren’t proof enough, they were no longer holding the crystals shards, but wearing them like pendants, just as they had for their entire journey. In our world, they didn’t glow, but the one-time Warriors of Light only had to touch them to feel the electric thrill that was a testament to the magic they’d once held in a place that might as well have been Fairyland.

Matt at last stooped to pick up his phone, noticing as he did that all four of them were dressed in normal, modern clothes—the same ones from that night—meaning his face and brown eyes were now visible to the others for the first time in months. He shut off the alarm, glancing at the time as he did so—9:01.

“I guess it’s time we go home,” he said at last, which was anti-climactic, to be sure, but the one thing they all wanted to do most.

* * *

Once again, Matt found himself swept up in the flow of students going from school bus to school building, the whole experience so unshakably, undeniably _normal_ that he had to reach up and touch the crystal shard hidden under his shirt to assure himself that the adventure beyond the world had, in fact, happened. The now-familiar shock ran through his fingers, and he could just detect the scent of ozone.

“Hey, Meyers!”

For once, at his tormentor’s shout, Matt neither flinched nor braced himself externally. Instead he turned and regarded the older boys. “Yes?”

The bullies seemed surprise at his lack of fear, but they didn’t immediately give up. Marcus took point, trying to loom over the shorter junior. “Where do you think you’re going, Genius?” He reached out, ready to shove, when a firm hand gripped his shoulder from behind.

“I’m going to give you one chance to think about what you’ll do next,” Josh said simply, not needing to raise his voice or allow anger to color his tone, “but if I feel necessary, I _will _intervene, and you will _not_ enjoy it. It’s high time I make some changes to this team.”

Marcus hesitated a moment longer, then let his hands drop. Matt nodded silently to the older boy before heading into school, still walking with an even pace, not running. Even after the dark-haired boy left, Josh still kept a hold on Marcus—he knew the receiver was the ringleader of the bullies. If he wanted to cut down on what bullying he could, he had to put the fear of God—or at least, of him—into Marcus.

“Now look here, Marcus,” he began, “I know you’ve had the run of the place for a while now, but you aren’t the only wide receiver on our team. In fact, they way practices are looking, you don’t even seem to be the best any more. If you don’t start focusing more on gameplay and showing me you can be a good role model to the incoming freshmen, I can think of a few reasons Coach might want to bench you for the next game.”

Maybe it was blackmail, maybe it was a low tactic, but he knew it was one that would have the needed effect on Marcus. Sure enough, the other player nodded, his shoulders slumping slightly in defeat. “Yeah—okay: I get it! Geez!”

Despite the antagonized tone, Josh knew the lesson—and implied threat—had struck home. It would take attention and follow-up to be sure that his team stayed on the right track, but at least it was a step in the right direction.

* * *

The debate team might not have been good, but they _were_ proud, and suspicious when the student most known for avoiding any kind of involvement or socialization asked to join.

“Debate’s not just about being smart,” hey pointed out, “it takes more skills than just brains.”

Matt shrugged, trying to emulate Zach’s casual confidence. “You’ll find I’m a quick study, and willing to learn.”

The current captain sized up the boy before him, wondering where the customary scowl and sarcasm had gone, but hey—they needed the fresh blood, and someone as good at research as Matt Meyers was reputed to be would definitely be a boost, even if they guy never did learn how to effectively persuade a judge. “That’s all we ask to start. Welcome to the team, man.”

The younger boy nodded, even smiling a little—who would’ve ever thought that he, an avowed loner, would seek out a place in a group activity because he missed being a part of a team?

* * *

Coach Roberts might’ve been happy about Josh stepping up and taking ownership of his position as Captain, but the part of the team that’d taken advantage of his lax stance weren’t. Not that they dared say so to Josh’s face, but whenever he left the locker room, there was a lot of grumbling.

Once, they made the mistake of doing so when Zach was still there, and the lanky boy marched straight up to them. “Hey—you got a problem with how things are run, then you take them up with Coach or with Wilson. But unless you do, you don’t have a right to complain.”

“What?” Marcus demanded. “Wilson’s the captain, and suddenly we have to kowtow to everything he says?”

Zach rolled his eyes. “That is _nothing_ like what I just said—I didn’t say roll over, I said stop complaining behind their backs and _go to them_ with the problem. Or are you just trying to find something to whine about because Josh stepped in and intervened before Coach could find out and kick you off the team for bullying? ‘Cause you know he would’ve.”

For the moment, Marcus and his group were silenced, but Zach knew it wasn’t the last time he’d have to knock some sense into them on his friend’s behalf. _Every leader needs a strong second-in-command, I guess_.

* * *

The four rarely sat all together at lunch—Zach alternated between the football team’s usual spot and the drama table as he eased into a relationship with Kristen Schoplan, and lunch was prime time for the debate team to plan and prepare, so Matt was usually sitting with them. Josh normally sat with the football players—if only to keep an eye on them, and Leslie found herself alternating between sitting with her boyfriend and taking her place with the group she’d assembled of ‘previously invisible’ students—an ever-expanding group.

Few looking would know the four had spent every waking moment together for months, though the highly observant might read in a look here or a glance there that these four students, as different as they seemed, shared some kind of marvelous secret.

* * *

The owner and proprietor of Tomaya’s Jewelry Store—a little hole-in-the-wall place in the strip mall by Four Light’s Pond—had received more visits from high school students in the past week than in the last year, all with some pretty unusual requests.

First was the girl with the blue gem who’d asked it be cut down and set in a bracelet—that wasn’t so unusual, but it had just been the start. Two days later, a boy that had to have been her brother came in with a green gem and a design for a lapel pin that looked like some kind of crest or club symbol, asking if she could make the pin with the gem. Not usually what boys asked her for, but certainly doable.

The next day, it’d been a tall, skinny boy with reddish-blonde hair, a red gem, and a request for a kind of medallion she’d noticed a few boys actually dared to wear. Not too unusual, she supposed, if it weren’t for the gem—most of those medallions or pendants being on the simple, causal side. Finally, just the other day had been the older, blonde boy with the strange, yellow gem and the idea for integrating it into one of the causal leather wrist bracelets that she’d seen more than a few boys his age wear.

By some _remarkable_ coincidence, all four orders were ready for pick up at the same time, and the older lady watched through thick-lensed glasses, as the four nodded to each other, exchanging greetings. It was clear to her—to anyone watching—the four knew each other; the four gems identical to each other in everything but color were only added confirmation.

After they left, she flipped the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed’ and locked the door before heading into the over-crowded, but neatly organized back room that was set-up in nearly the same way as her massive study back in her private home. She knew she was alone, so she moved the rug that covered the glyphs on her floor—the glyphs that allowed her to come and go across the worlds as she pleased, the glyphs that had brought that mad ‘prophet’ to her with a request that she keep her good eye on four children in the town, and deliver the shards ‘when they were ready’.

“I declare Lukahn,” Matoya muttered under her breath as she stepped on the glyphs and prepared for the journey home, “it’s a good thing no one remembers just how much you interfered in your own prophecy but you and me...

“...And I still say you’re crazy, even if it did work!”


End file.
